


Russian Smile

by DustinMcDreamy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean Winchester, Crime Boss Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester is Claire Novak's Parent, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, Father Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, Kidnapping, M/M, Rimming, Shower Sex, Soulmates, The Eventual Sex is Consensual, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 06:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30067968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustinMcDreamy/pseuds/DustinMcDreamy
Summary: Dean Winchester is an FBI Agent looking into Castiel "The Angel" Novak, a rising Russian crime lord linked to arms trades and other severe gang crimes. He assumed when he met Castiel, Castiel would be the one in handcuffs, not him; and he definitely wasn't expecting Castiel to be his soulmate.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 127
Collections: Dean/Cas Reverse Bang 2021





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my partner SissyRay84 for her artwork (featured in the fic) and inspiration for this story!

Dean Winchester woke up at five-thirty A.M. to the sound of his phone’s alarm. With a groan and a morning stretch to loosen up his tight muscles, he forced himself out of bed to begin his day.

Dean had a strict routine in his morning. In his youth, he would be lazier; hit snooze three times, take showers at night to have more time in bed in the morning, but he had children now. After his hasty ten minute shower, he got dressed in one of his immaculate suits, straightened his blue tie, and made his way to his children’s rooms to wake them up.

He knocked on each door four times; loud enough to alert them, but not enough to terrify them if they were mid-REM cycle, before opening their door. “Jack, wake up, it’s almost time for school.” The process was repeated for Claire, his second child. Dean had adopted them about four years ago when they were two and three years old. The past four years with them had been the best years of Dean’s life. Sure, being a single dad was difficult often, but his brother Sam, his wife Eileen, and his best friend Charlie helped him when they could.

Dean headed downstairs and started his coffee and the kids’ breakfast. Dean made them all a generous helping of cheesy eggs and sausage and bagels. He definitely never thought he would be this kind of guy. He was always a drive-thru guy, picking up burgers and fries for himself, but that was when he was only living for himself.

Between work and the kids, he was exhausted often, and there was very little free time for himself, but Jack and Claire were more than worth it.

“Good Morning, Daddy!” Claire excitedly announced as she ran into the kitchen.

“Good Morning, Kiddo!” Dean greeted cheerfully, setting the spatula down to give her a hug and a kiss on her forehead. “Where’s your brother? Did he get out of bed?”

“Yeah, he’s coming,” she confirmed.

“Good,” he replied as he went back to the skillet to start plating up the food and setting it at the table.

Jack finally trudged in a few moments later, looking less cheerful than Claire, but Jack was always a little moodier. “There’s my buddy!”

Dean made his way to Jack and hugged him as well, also giving him a kiss on the top of his head, but Jack made a groan of protest in response. “Gross.”

“Aww,” Dean said. “I thought I had until you were at least a teenager to get all unhappy, but that’s fine. I’ll stop if you don’t like it. You should never be afraid to tell anyone if you don’t like being touched, hugged, or kissed. So, do you want me to stop?”

“…no,” Jack said quietly.

“Are you absolutely sure? You never to feel bad about hurting the other person’s feelings or feel pressured to allow it to continue,” Dean reiterated. Jack responded by initiating a new hug with Dean and Dean smiled, hugging his son back. “Aww, thank you buddy. But remember, you can say no to hugs at anytime!”

“Ok, Dad,” he said as he let go. Dean let go as well and Jack made his way to his seat at the table to begin eating his breakfast.

After a few minutes of eating, it was time to put the plates away and get the kids to school. They grabbed their backpacks and made their way to Dean’s Impala. It wasn’t the best car for children per se, but he and Sam turned out mostly fine as they grew up riding in the same family car. Some PTA Moms looked at him judgingly, while others looked at him hungrily. He couldn’t win them all.

Most of them had soulmates anyways. Some others just wanted to casually date before they met their soulmate, and then get a surprise they weren’t expecting. Some people wanted kids and didn’t want to wait for their soulmates.

Dean hadn’t met his soulmate yet, clearly, but when these two kids came into his life after a mission, Dean felt an immediate connection, and he couldn’t let them go into the system where they may have been split up.

Dean was an FBI Agent stationed in Washington, DC. He never thought he’d have this kind of career in life. Being raised by a hunter and having extensive gun expertise and knowledge in terrain and environmental analysis combined with his natural charm, acting skills, and people profiling made him an ideal candidate, apparently.

Sam and his wife Eileen were a successful lawyers, which paved the way for Sam to later become a human rights lobbyist, fighting every day in DC on behalf of his bisexual brother, fellow people with disabilities, and all other racial and socioeconomic minorities. Those two were smart and incredibly impressive to Dean. He had some accomplishments himself, but being an agent was different. He had some smarts, but often he needed to rely on having better aim and evasive maneuvers than his adversaries.

The kids were dropped off at school, and he got some friendly smiles from a married couple who he was _very sure_ wanted to arrange a playdate with him as opposed to their kids, and he made his way to the FBI Headquarters.

Dean enjoyed his job; he liked taking down bad guys, and he liked to think of himself as James Bond, although he did significantly more desk work than James Bond likely ever did, and he didn’t get to use any cool gadgets. But it was a much nicer job than he ever expected to get. It got him a large enough house to support the three of them all by himself, and that was more than he could ever hope for.

Security at the FBI building was elaborate, but necessarily so. After scanning his ID and showing his badge at multiple checkpoints, he finally got to his desk space. His partner Jo was already at hers.

“Morning, Winchester,” she said.

“Jo,” Dean greeted, sitting down. “What do we got?”

“Potential right-hand man,” she replied. “He’s made a few appearances with Novak, although it’s hard to tell. He’s generic looking, always got shades on, and doesn’t have identifiable marks like Novak does. I’ve got a lot of potential hits we need to filter through.”

He and Jo were looking into Castiel Novak, known in the underground as _The Angel._ head of a growing Russian Mafia that had been growing steadily over the past two years. They’ve linked him to arms deals to multiple other big crime players as well as some smaller countries. He’s evasive, and half the world away, but the United States has determined he is a large enough to be monitored, but not large enough to start a war over.

They needed more information about his strategies, routines, and also his motives. Their knowledge of Novak was limited, mostly because he was _not_ getting involved with the US directly. As far as they could tell, none of his sales have impacted the US directly, and only minor foreign events like gang wars or heists occurred using weapons Novak provided.

“Give me some pics,” Dean ordered. She used two hands to pass over a very thick folder, Dean’s eyes going wide before reaching up and grabbing it for himself. “Are you sure you’re not going to take half of this?”

“That _is_ one half,” Jo replied, gesturing at her desk. Dean stood up and looked over his monitors to see that yes, Jo had another equally large folder full of photos on her desk, making Dean grimace. “Get to work.”

Half the day was spent looking through the photos and cross referencing them in the database they were printed from. They were marking location, date, and times each photo was taken to help filter out which ones were Novak’s guy and which ones were just slightly identical civilians.

One of the pics with a high possibility of being Novak’s guy had a partial Russian license plate. “Jo! Jo! We might have a new lead,” he said as he showed her the pic. She took it with interest and looked at it curiously, mixed emotions on her face.

“Without the whole thing, we’re going to have another session of _this,”_ she said, gesturing to them searching for needles in a haystack of photos. “Also, if they’re smart, they would be using rentals, or swapping out plates.”

“But if this is a rental, we can see who was renting it on that date,” Dean replied. “It’s better than what we have.”

“That’s fair,” she said, handing him the photo back. “Look into it.”

Dean submitted a ticket for their software to try to find partial plate matches of the plate they found. It would gather them photos and information for them and print them out, just as they did for these photos.

As Dean was typing away, another agent came by their table. “Geesh, that’s a lot of pictures. Are these of your Novak guy?” Zachary Adler was an older agent that had been on many similar cases involving large crime lords, gangs, criminal organizations. He had gotten a good promotion out of it, and now helped to oversee similar cases. Even though they reported to Bobby, Zachary checked in every so often.

“We think we found a partner, or at least someone at a higher level that Novak would respect. However, he has no identifying features, wears large sunglasses, and the quality of these photos is atrocious,” Jo said.

“We, uh, got a partial plate though, so we’ll be checking into that now,” Dean said.

“May I see?” Zachary asked. Dean handed him the photo. Zachary looked impressed.

“Anything can turn up more leads. Leave no stone unturned kind of thing,” he replied. “You two are some of the better agents, so I don’t actually need anything here, I just find this case fascinating, but if you do need help with something, let me know, okay?”

“Of course, Adler,” Jo said. “Thank you.”

He left the two of them alone, and they continued their search. Jo had been attempting to contact some of the identifiable locations for more information, but wasn’t getting much. They at least needed to pinpoint a location of operations in order to warrant a mission abroad. Dean hadn’t thought too much about getting to that point. Perhaps Jo could go alone, or with a replacement since he had kids to watch. He hadn’t even taken them on any vacation yet, nor has he left them alone. The only thing he spent his PTO on was long staycations on the kids’ school breaks.

It was time for Dean to head out for the day to get the kids from school. He made up his missing hours at home on a secure VPN. “See you tomorrow, Jo,” he said as he left and made his way to the school.

The kids stayed at an after-school program because Dean couldn’t leave work _too_ early, but he was thankful he could work flexibly for his family.

The kids were picked up from school and they arrived back at home safe and sound. Dean would cook dinner while they did their homework at the kitchen island where Dean could take a quick peak and help them out. He was really glad they had about a decade to go before the difficult math showed up. As soon as sine, cosine, and tangent appeared- he was done for.

“Did you have a good day at work, Dad?” Claire asked.

“I did, sweetheart. Thank you for asking,” Dean replied.

“Anything fun happen?” she asked.

“Not really,” Dean replied. “All daddy does is type in a computer and fill out paperwork, kind of like your homework.” His kids were too young for them to know what he really did. Kids blabbed about everything, and he never wanted them to worry. Sam and Eileen knew small amounts, but nothing confidential. They knew he was FBI and they knew he’s gone abroad for _some_ hands on missions before, but he was in the office more often than not, especially once the kids got adopted. They knew just the bare minimum to make sense if anything happened to Dean in the worst case scenario.

“We were learning about jobs today, like doctors and lawyers and firefighters,” Claire added.

“Oh yeah, and what do you want to be when you’re older?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know yet,” she added. “Maybe an actress!”

Dean laughed lightly and gave his daughter a big smile. “You’d be a great movie star, darling. How about you, Jack, any ideas?”

He just shook his head. “That’s pretty far away. I don’t know enough about what’s out there.”

“There’s a whole lot. And yes, you have plenty of time to decide,” Dean agreed. “Okay, everyone, go wash your hands and get to the table. Dinner is about to be served!”

He turned the stove off and set the table as the kids ran off. Today was a simple spaghetti and meatball day for them. It was easy to cook, they loved it, and that was good enough for Dean.

After dinner, they usually played on their own and watched TV while Dean cleaned all the dishes before retreating to his study to continue work on his secured government issued laptop. He was often a little tired at this point; transitioning from work to dad mode back to work before sleep. He often wondered about when he’d find his soul mate like this given that he rarely had time to go out or do things for himself. How would they react to Dean being a father already, or being an FBI Agent? Would they be bringing in kids as well to this equation? That would be something to see for sure…

Right now, he just wanted to focus on finding Novak. He sifted through his leads and photos, every little bit of information would hopefully bring them one step closer to finding Novak.

The hours passed before it was time to get the children and himself to bed. He rubbed his temples, trying to relieve his exhaustion from under sleeping and overworking. He made his way to the living room where Jack was watching TV and Claire was asleep on the couch. He gave a soft smile at how cute they were. He wished he had more time with them to play, but he did the best he could.

“You ready for bed, Jack?” Dean asked.

“I guess,” he replied. He wasn’t as expressive or social like Claire was, but he was just relieved he was responsible and mature for a kid. Young boys could be rambunctious and hyper, he knew he definitely was as a kid. 

He picked up Claire in his arms carefully and propped her against his chest. She made a small noise from being disturbed.

“Come on, Claire, let’s get you into bed.” Dean replied. She mumbles something faintly in agreement, although she was too tired to enunciate clearly.

He escorted the kids upstairs, and got them settled into bed for the night before making his own way to his room. He stripped out of his clothes and collapsed into his empty king sized bed. It was too much space for just himself, he often thought.

He was in his early thirties, which was a little late to be finding his soulmate. He wasn’t in a rush, and his life was comfortable, but it would be _really_ nice to have a different pair of hands massaging his aching muscles instead of just him.

He never asked the kids how the felt about having only one parent instead of two, at least they haven’t in a while. He was sure they understood enough to realize they were adopted. They never asked, and they never asked about a mom. Claire wouldn’t have remembered her mother, but Jack maybe did. Perhaps he would ask when they were older; there was no point in stirring a pot now.

They were happy together, and Dean was happier than he’d ever been with them, so he didn’t _need_ his soulmate this second, but it was nice to think about.

The next morning was the same routine, as it always was. Dean got up first, took his shower, got dressed. He woke up the kids and made their breakfast before taking them to their school, briefly checked out the Dilfs and Milfs, and made his way to the HQ.

The license plate brought them a few substantial leads. Dean noticed a large empty area where Novak and his associate were never seen. Criminals wouldn’t want to be caught too close to their base, so they tended to venture out further.

“Nice work, Dean!” Jo replied. “This is a large area, highly populated, and we don’t know enough about the geography yet, but I think this will be good for us.”

“If we can get a match on that car within the blind area, it’ll be even better. We need to start filtering those hits next. Your sources tell you anything?” Dean asked.

“Only that he is slowing down,” Jo said. “You know what that means?”

“Either that he knows we’re on his tail, or if he was preparing for something, he no longer needs to prepare as much,” Dean stated.

“And we still don’t know what that is,” Jo replied. “Perhaps we’re running out of time.”

“Perhaps he’ll do something that’ll reveal more information, like his location, or maybe something that’ll warrant something more hands-on,” Dean said.

“I’d prefer to have something before that happens,” Jo stated.

Dean nodded in agreement. “I would too, but we can’t throw in the towel yet. We got to think about the silver linings.”

Jo sighed with resentment at Dean’s over-positive attitude. “Fine. Put in a ticket for a geographic casing. We need to know more about this area.”

“Will do,” Dean said.

The day wrapped up, although it’d be several days before they had adequate information on the blind spot they thought Novak could be hiding. They needed architectural records, agricultural records, economic records, and more. It would be a lot to go through once compiled and all they could do was wait.

He took his normal route to the school, which included one particular tunnel. There were construction and detour signs getting ready to be placed, and Dean groaned. He didn’t want to deal with upcoming construction within the next few days.

He was driving through the underpass, focused on the road when he, all of a sudden, heard an electrical blast and felt a force hit his car. He jerked in reaction, and felt the steering wheel lock up. The dashboard lights were off too, and he heard the sound of his engine quieting down. An EMP just hit his car, disabling everything, including the brakes and power steering.

His heart raced as his car continued to go forward high speed towards a column wen he turned to see a black car headed towards the driver’s seat.

= = = =

Sam was at home, cooking for Eileen, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book and having a pre-dinner glass of wine.

He finished up the dish; roasted chicken drizzled in a cranberry Dijon sauce and seasoned vegetables, and brought it to their table. She saw him approach and set the book in the empty chair next to her as he set the table in front of her.

“Thank you, my love,” she signed.

“You’re welcome, my dear,” he signed back. “Is your book any good?”

“Much better than the last. The suspense has me very intrigued,” she responded back.

He chuckled as he took a bite of his food. He really outdid himself tonight, he thought. As he tried to sign to Eileen about her thought, his phone began to ring from the counter, drawing his attention, interrupting his question.

“Do you need to get that?” Eileen asked.

Sam shook his head no. “I don’t like taking calls at dinner, especially when my date is so lovely.”

She blushed and chuckled, signing thank you when Sam heard the alert go off that a voicemail had been left. Spam callers typically didn’t leave voicemails, but his clients would. But still, it would have to wait.

He went to take another bite when it began to ring again, and he knew something must be important. He gestured for Eileen to give him a moment, and he headed to his phone. The number saved was for Jack and Claire’s day care, and he felt himself tense up a bit.

“Sam Winchester,” he said as he answered.

“Sam Winchester, this is Allison from the After School Program at Lincoln Elementary. We have you listed as an emergency contact for Dean, Claire, and Jack Winchester.”

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“Well, we close in about ninety minutes, and Dean hasn’t picked the kids up yet. They’re usually picked up around five-thirty, and we haven’t been able to reach him. We were wondering if you are able to reach him or pick up the children as an alternative if Dean is unavailable,” the woman explained.

“Sure thing, I will be right there,” he stated, giving Eileen a concerned look. This wasn’t like Dean at all, and Sam feared the worst.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most translations will be at the bottom notes. I apologize if any are missed or aren't entirely correct. 
> 
> I also apologize for any inaccuracies in FBI protocol or work life throughout the course of this fic as well as criminal life as I am not an employee of the federal government nor a mob boss.

Castiel Novak did not think of himself as a cruel man per se, but he knew he had the capacity within himself to be one when he needed. His hand, bound in a tight leather glove, hovered over the set of tools at his disposal. His fingers danced, stretching out the tight leather around his digits, as he considered his options.

The room was quiet, aside from the muffled whimpering of the unfortunate man strapped to the table in the vinyl room. There were sheets and tarps on the floor, on the sides of the table. Every surface was covered, and anyone who saw this room would clearly see that this room was meant to get messy, but no evidence of any mess would be left behind afterwards. This was also very clear to the man bound to the slab.

“Some say the world will end in fire,” Castiel meticulously said, picking up a blowtorch from the table and turning to the man. The fear grew in his eyes as Castiel pressed the button, activating the flames. “Some say in ice.” He reached behind him and held up a syringe that was filled with a liquid which he man wouldn’t be able to identify, but Castiel knew it to be a vehemently unpleasant poison.

“From what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.” He slowly approached his hostage, precise and intimidating with every step he took, expertly calculated to instill the most amount of fear into the man. “But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate-”.

He sat down on the chair next to the kidnapped man, who was now breathing heavily and partially crying, his groans being partially silenced by the duct tape. He dragged the needle of the syringe lightly against the skin of the man’s neck, being delicate enough to not break the needle, even when the muscles of the man’s throat tensed and retracted in fear.

“-to say that for destruction ice is also great, and would suffice.” He gave the man a cheerful smile that may have appeared to be genuine under different circumstances. He set the torch and the syringe on a surgical tray on a side table. He grabbed a corner of the duct tape on the man’s mouth and began to peel it off. The sound of skin slowly separating from the adhesive from very pleasing to Castiel until enough of the man’s mouth was freed to moan and whimper.

“Please, please, don’t do this,” the man begged. “I won’t say anything!”

Castiel groaned with displeasure. They always turned into slobbery little children as soon as the gag was removed. They could never wait until spoken to. “You’ve ruined the moment,” Castiel growled.

“What do you want from me?” the man whimpered.

“Anastasia Miltoynov,” Castiel replied. “Does the name ring a bell to you?”

“I worked for her,” he responded nervously.

“Yes, you did,” Castiel replied. “And you betrayed her.”

“Never!” He repeated. “Working for Anastasia was the height of my career! When she was taken out the rest of us had to flee. I had to start over from the bottom of the barrel!”

“Oh I know,” Castiel replied. “We all had to work and climb back up from the gutters to get to where we are, and I cannot state that I found it to be a positive experience.”

“I wasn’t the one who set her up! Why would I do that to my career!?” the man shouted.

“You may not have had a direct role, but you may have had an accidental one. You may have slipped a detail or a schedule to someone asking questions regarding information outside their job description. After all, you were their driver,” Castiel said.

“I only spoke to whom Lady Anastasia authorized! I swear it! And we didn’t exchange last names in this business!” the man pleaded.

“I’m well aware, which has made the last few years particularly difficult,” Castiel stated. “Which is why I’m going to show you some pictures. I’ve made it very easy for you. But first, I’m going to give you something.”

He lifted up the syringe he had earlier and flicked it, ensuring any large bubbles would not make it to his blood stream. “Is that truth serum?” the man asked. Castiel chuckled, picking up the hopeful tone in his voice.

“If you are referring to sodium thiopental, I am afraid not. The drug you are referring to slows down your mental capacity, making it harder to orchestrate lies. Since I only need you to say yes or no to a face, it wouldn’t be particularly helpful to me,” he explained. “This will ensure you are properly incentivized.”

“No, no, no please!” the man begged as Castiel inserted the needle into his vein and injected the liquid.

“This is what I call the mild dose. This is twenty percent potency. The forty percent will be extraordinarily painful. Sixty will have you live with extreme health effects for the rest of your life, and eighty will have you begging me to kill you, which I will not do quickly,” Castiel described.

The man screamed in pain as the mysterious serum spread through his arm. It hadn’t even gotten to the rest of the body, and the man was suffering immensely. “Let’s begin.”

Castiel entered his lofty residence later that evening, having extracted as much information as he could from Anastasia’s driver. He made his way to his living parlor and approached the antique sideboard, which had a lovely crystal decanter on top full of whiskey.

He opened up the cabinet that was hiding his liquor glasses and a mini freezer. He removed a whiskey glass and dropped in an ice sphere. He poured the whisky over the ice and generously gave himself a double portion.

He made his way towards his chaise as he took a sip of his drink. He wanted to unwind after his long day. Before the torture, he met with a client to arrange a sale. Castiel would supply the guns, and he would supply the funds and _information_.

Many of those close to Anastasia were still in the wind, after all these years. Were they protecting themselves from law enforcement,…or retribution?

He set his glass on the end table next to him, opting to grab the framed photograph instead. It was a photo of him when he was slightly younger. He had significantly less tattoos on his body, and his arm was around the waist of a red headed woman who emanated power and confidence. He brought the photograph up to his lips and kissed the glass.

“I will find them, Anastasia,” Castiel said. “I promise you.”

He set the photograph down and took up his glass again, bringing it to his lips. He was still restless, not relaxed enough. He took out his phone and scrolled through the contacts before clicking on a name and he brought the phone up to his ear.

“Zdravstvuyte, Castiel,” the man greeted.

“Your services have been requested,” Castiel stated.

“I will be there,” the man responded.

Castiel disconnected the call, not needing anything further. He texted his security team to expect a visitor. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He was looking to avenge Anastasia, who was betrayed by someone close to her, and he was just allowing his security team to send in whores when he was most vulnerable. It was careless, but he wasn’t going to pursue celibacy. Where was the fun of accumulating a little bit of wealth and power if you couldn’t use it every so often? It’s not like he found his soulmate yet, or ever would.

About twenty-five minutes passed, and the front door opened. A blonde man in a powder blue suit jacket, pink dress shirt, and formal pants entered the loft, escorted by a guard. The guard shut the door behind the prostitute, and the man made his way into the living room to greet his client.

“Dobryy vecher, Castiel,” the man said.

Castiel just stared at the man from his seat and took another drink. He had refilled it during his wait, and was now feeling a nice buzz that would make the night feel better. “Strip.”

The man smirked, appreciative of his boldness, and did as instructed. He slowly unbuttoned his jacket, and upon the removal, made a slightly larger production of wiggling out of it than what was needed, but it was nice to see the tucked dress shirt stretch against the call boy’s muscles.

The jacket hit the floor and the hands began to unbutton his shirt. More and more flesh was revealed to Castiel until the shirt was also discarded to the floor. He was a fit, toned man, but still about two inches shorter than Castiel, and didn’t have too much muscle mass.

The blonde stepped out of his shoes and began to unfasten his belt, drawing it away from his body whilst making direct eye contact with Castiel. The belt was let go to the floor as the man unzipped his pants and stepped out of them next. The gentleman was still in some small gray briefs that exposed all of his thighs, and barely contained his bulge. The man was hung, but Castiel wasn’t planning on doing anything with that part tonight.

As the prostitute hooked his thumbs into the waistband, Castiel utter a notice of disapproval, and shook his head. Instead, he just motioned with his finger to approach. The man took a step, and Castiel made another disapproving noise. “On your knees.”

The man gave Castiel an approving smile before getting down to his hands and knees, slowly making his way to Castiel. His back was arched and his gaze was on Castiel’s eyes the entire time.

He approached the couch and raised himself, spreading his hands over Castiel’s thighs, teasing the boss’s own growing bulge with the thumbs. “What next for you, sir?”

As Castiel opened his mouth to respond, the door opened again and Castiel turned to glare at the intruder.

The man entering just laughed heartily, not being phased by the view in front of him. “Glad I arrived when I did. A few more moments and I may have accidentally seen my brother’s manhood stuffing a slut’s mouth…. _again_.”

“What do you want, Gabriel?” Castiel asked, moving the gentleman aside and making his way over to his brother.

“I wanted to advise you that the _thing_ you ordered from DC has arrived and is secured in the ‘storage’ room,” his brother said with air quotes, which earned him an exasperated squint.

“I didn’t have a doubt,” Castiel growled. “Therefore, that could have been a fucking text message.”

“But then I would have missed out on cock-blocking you, which is _hilarious_!” Gabriel asked. “So what’s the plan?”

“Question him in the morning, and I’ll show up when I show up to take care of the rest. Now get the fuck out of my penthouse,” Castiel ordered.

“Have fuuuuuuun,” Gabriel sang as he made his way to the door and walked with an obnoxious flounce that was only intended to piss him off.

He made his way back to the living room where the man he had hired was waiting on the couch, still wearing the underwear as instructed, but was positioned with his ass in the air for Castiel, and his head angled low and turned to look towards Castiel, despite a bit of a strain.

“What will you have me do next for you, boss?” the man asked.

Castiel groaned and tried to loosen up the stress building in his neck. “First I need a massage for my neck and back, and you can figure out what to massage from there.”

The man smiled as he stood up into a normal position and patted the couch. “Whatever you want, sir.”

= = = =

Jo was on her fourth pot of coffee, and she had been working for nearly twenty-four hours straight. She had only been home for an hour when Bobby called her back to the station and had been advised of Dean’s disappearance.

She had been attempting to recover any traffic videos she could. They had pinpointed he site of the abduction, and she investigated the scene as much as she could. She was waiting on forensics, the cyber team, and more.

“Jo,” Bobby’s voice calmly stated, pulling her out of her trance. “Go to the quartering room, get no less than six hours. You’re waiting on multiple departments anyways. We can wake up to fresh news.”

Jo just grimaced and rubbed her eyes before slamming her fist on her desk.

“We’ll find him, Jo,” Bobby stated.

“We don’t even know where to find this fucker, and now he’s got the only guy who could find out!” Jo shouted.

“We got you, and you’re every bit as good as Dean is,” Bobby said. “But we won’t find him with your brain burnt out. Get some sleep. That’s an order.”

He left her behind, trusting her well enough to make the right decision within the next few minutes at least.

Jo buried her face in her hands and let out a few tears. They were trained to prepare for this type of thing, and to remain steady so their emotions wouldn’t compromise the mission, but this was one skill in training she hadn’t needed to fully utilize yet. This was _her partner_. “Dean,” she muttered softly under her shaking breath. “Where are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zdravstvuyte- Hello  
> Dobryy vecher- Good Evening


	3. Chapter Three

A splash of something cold and wet jolted Dean from his sleep, except that he had no recollection of falling asleep. He tried to wipe the water off his face, but he felt that his arms were restrained behind him.

What was going on? He took some heavy breaths as he tried to orient himself, his vision slowly coming clearer. He wasn’t in his bedroom, and he wasn’t in his car. He suddenly remembered the EMP, and he remembered the sight of another car. Suddenly he was aware of all of the pain on the left side of his body, but this was no hospital.

He was in a concrete room, and there was another man in a brown leather jacket and eager smile holding a bucket. As he went to step, he also felt his legs were restrained. The reality of his situation was quickly sinking in, and it was not pleasant.

“Good Morning, Mr. Winchester,” the man said with a heavy Russian accent. Dean eyed the man and imagined sunglasses over his face. This was definitely the man in the photographs he was trying to identify.

He had to recall his training. He should deny who he was, but they would have looked at his wallet, which was definitely no longer in his pocket. He couldn’t give information, no matter how much they tortured him. Dying for your country’s secrets was highly encouraged.

“You came all the way to the states just for me?” Dean replied flirtatiously. Perhaps he could get information back in return.

The man’s expression grew from stoic to delighted, and then he audibly laughed from Dean’s words. “No, Mr. Winchester. I’ve never set foot in America.” Dean processed the words slowly before his heart began to race as he realized he was a long way from home. “You were out quite some time. Injecting drugs into an unconscious body seemed a bit like overkill, but we wrote ‘Handle With Care’ on the box we shipped you in.”

“You must think you’re pretty funny,” Dean stated.

“Oh, I think I’m hilarious,” the man replied. “I think, in another life, we could have been friends.”

“Oh, yeah, totally. We could have grabbed beers, watched football, kidnapped and tortured some people,” Dean replied.

The interrogator chuckled some more. “I think that is what is called a ‘Guy’s Night’,” he replied. “And I’m not the one that does the torture here.”

“Are you sure? Why do you keep talking, then?” Dean replied.

The man leaned forward and clapped with a large smile. “You are great! I must applaud you! You are a great man. You must be quite the fishmonger, so seductive and charming.”

“You’re not my type,” Dean politely declined.

“Nor are you mine, but maybe my brother will have fun with you. He likes them skinny and fit,” he replied.

“Is your brother Castiel?” Dean asked.

The interrogator smiled at the question. “I don’t answer the questions, I ask them. Do you know where you are?”

“You implied not the U.S.,” Dean replied. “But for all I know, I am underneath a McDonald’s.”

“I believe you would have smelled the fries if that were the case,” he replied with a smile. “What country do you think you’re in?”

“I’m _really_ hoping for Jamaica or Aruba. Somewhere warm, tropical. I think I’d like to see girls in bikinis and guys in speedos,” Dean replied cheerfully.

“Oh, so you _do_ like guys? Maybe my brother will have fun with you after all,” the interrogator said.

“How is that working out for him? I hear Russia’s pretty anti-gay,” Dean stated.

The man’s eyebrow raised with piqued interest. “So you think we’re in Russia?” Dean tried to feign disappointment, as if he didn’t mean to slip in their mind game, but everything as calculated. He could divulge misleading or insignificant information to delay or prevent certain escalations to an extent. Giving a little info to receive a little info was a strategic reverse-interrogation technique. Of course, if the captors gave out something vital on accident, they’d have to kill you. It was a dangerous game of chess, and Dean hadn’t needed to use it in practice.

“Well, you’re Russian, you’d want a country distant from the US,” Dean replied. “I’m not a master strategist, but Russia would be convenient to just drop me off at your base of operations,” Dean said.

The interrogator looked at him inquisitively. It didn’t appear he’d fall for Dean’s fishing scene and confirm if this was the base Dean had narrowed down. Maybe this guy wasn’t as dumb as he looked. “Safehouses are like whores, you want two in every city.”

“I don’t think we have idioms like that in America,” Dean replied.

“You have some nice ones,” the man replied. “I am a fan of ‘bite the bullet’ to mean ‘finish quickly’, because if you were to bite a bullet, you would be dead, and I get the feeling you will be dead soon enough, Mr. Winchester.”

“Hopefully not before I get to meet _thee_ Castiel Novak,” Dean replied cheekily.

The interrogator gave him a condescending smirk. “Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Winchester. People who say they want to meet God end up doing so before they know it.”

“Is Castiel Novak God?” Dean asked. “Or is this where you reply with ‘He is the devil’?” He imitated the Russian man’s voice to the best he could, which made him laugh some more.

“I am really starting to like you, Mr. Winchester,” Gabriel said. “Let me get some fielding questions out of the way before Mr. Novak meets you. Answering each question saves about half an hour of torture from you later. Yesterday, we had a guy that was so willing to talk right off the bat, but that wasn’t fun for our little Angel, so he tortured him anyways prior to questioning. I can convince him to start of small for you, though if you cooperate.”

“What do you got for me?” Dean asked cheerfully.

“Where do you think you are?” the man asked.

Dean squinted, looking at the man suspiciously. “You asked me this already. I thought we agreed on Russia.”

“Russia is nearly two times the size of the US,” the guy replied. “Surely, you can narrow it down more than that.”

Dean could. He could describe the medium radius he and Jo pinpointed it to. But the man likely already knew that he knew. The interrogator implied they had multiple safehouses, but their operation would be halted if they had to commute to see Dean.

If one location of many was compromised, they could have frozen the location and relocated to a backup with very little hassle. Dean wouldn’t have needed to be kidnapped. The man needed confirmation of the level of shit they were in, which meant Dean was at _the_ central hub of operations, and they were feeling the pressure.

“Cooperation will allow you to keep at least one of your _yaichki_ ,” the man stated in a playful tone. Dean didn’t need to speak Russian to get an understanding, but he needed to navigate carefully.

“Somewhere outside Moscow,” Dean replied. “Somewhere discrete, but within access to large resources, and populated just enough to not stick out like a sore thumb.”

The information Dean provided was not the truth, but he could regulate his tone and physiology to make it seem like it was. The interrogator looked at him, analyzing everything as well to deduce if Dean was telling the truth. He gave an over-cheerful smile that Dean couldn’t read due to the man being such a wild card.

“Why is the FBI looking into us?” the man asked, not going into more detail about the location or revealing if he knew Dean was lying.

“How’d you find out we were FBI?” Dean asked.

“How’d you find out we were criminals? We make noise, we get seen. Our jobs catch attention,” the man said.

“My job is to _not_ gather attention,” Dean replied.

The interrogator made a dramatic awkward face. “I’d like to see your performance reviews then. With looks like yours you could always be a prostitute. Castiel may put you into that career anyways.”

There were no human trafficking ties to Novak, and if there were, this henchman wouldn’t have implied as such so cavalierly, even if he didn’t intend for Dean to live. Although, he couldn’t be too sure.

“It wasn’t for trafficking,” Dean stated. “Although we can expand.”

The guy took out a cigarette and a lighter and began to ignite it, taking a long drag form it before blowing the smoke out. “There’s no need, we limit ourselves to the arms trading you’re already aware of.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to make of the transparency. Why ask if he was going to give an answer? Was he trying to nonchalantly bury other leads? But also, did transparency mean Dean was going to die here? “My brother and I each enjoy our sluts, who doesn’t, but we make sure they are all….ethically sourced….like coffee!”

“Oh, well as long as you’re ethical, maybe I should just close the whole file,” Dean suggested sarcastically.

The man chuckled as he flicked some dead ash from the end of his burning cigarette. “I do wish it was that easy, I really do. I could have slept in today.”

“It’s not too late,” Dean said. “You can take a nap in the corner, I ain’t going anywhere,” Dean replied.

This was unfortunately true. There were tricks he could have done if he was captured conscious; ways to position the hands to break out of easier, but he couldn’t. Any tools he had on his person to cut or pick the handcuffs was gone. Plus, with his hands behind his back, he’d only be able to get them in front of him via the ground, but his feet were bound with a sturdy coated chain and padlock. These guys were efficient.

“It’s very tempting,” the man said. “But Castiel wouldn’t be happy with me. I’d be in that chair next.”

He tried to stay level-headed and optimistic about his odds, but they were increasingly slimmer by the moment. He thought about Claire and Jack. He only had a short amount of time with them. He’d never see them grow up. He knew Sam and Eileen would do an amazing job with them, but it would be so hard on everyone. The kids didn’t remember losing their birth parents, but losing Dean might detriment them for life. Sam too, although not as bad, but Dean was the last family he had, and he’d be cursed with raising Dean’s in his place. They were probably all so terrified right now.

“I know that look,” the gentleman said. “Whom are you thinking about?”

“I just……” Dean panted, “-that I had a chance to say goodbye to your mother.”

The man in the jacket laughed more at Dean’s sharp tongue. “I really wish Castiel didn’t have to kill you, you’re so much fun. Maybe if you’re really, Castiel will let you be his _shluha vokzal’naja_ instead of executing you.”

The sound of a heavy vault door opening emanated throughout the room, and a mischievous grin grew on the man’s face. “He’s heeeeeeereeeeeee,” he sang.

Dean watched as the gorgeous, immaculately dressed man with rolled up sleeves which revealed fully covered tattoo sleeves approached. The man in question was unmistakably Castiel Novak, The Angel. “Be quiet, Gabriel,” the man’s voice stated sternly.

The interrogator, now identified as Gabriel, looked at Novak with offense. “Yeah, just throw out my name.”

“Mne vse ravno,” Castiel barked back, even more angrily before turning his attention to Dean. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean smiled courteously, if not a little dramatically so. “You must be Castiel.”

= = = =

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, princess,” Mary Winchester read aloud to Dean, who was curled up in his bed, tucked under his blankets, and was having his head gently stroked as Mary read him his nightly bedtime story for the evening.

“And as the knight uttered those words, he heard the princess’s heart beat loudly and heard angels sing, indicating he had met his one true love, his soul mate. The princess took his breath away, and she had felt the same. She smiled as she realized that this knight was to be her groom,” she read.”

“I don’t get what’s happening, mama,” Dean said with confusion.

Mary chuckled softly. “Well, my son, finding love is kind of hard, so God invented soulmates, and when you talk to your soulmate for the first time, you’ll know it’s them because the world will go silent, they’ll take your breath away, and you’ll only be able to hear their heartbeat, which tells you how much they love you. You see the stars and you hear the angels. It’s quite interesting.”

“That sounds weird,” Dean replied. “I think you should just glow.”

“Glow?” she asked. “That’s a very good idea, Dean. Perhaps God should have left you in charge of the soulmates.”

“Yeah, all that sounds complicated,” Dean replied.

“Well, it had to be unique so you’d _really know_ it was them,” Mary explained.

“So you knew Dad was your soulmate?” Dean asked.

“Of course,” Mary Winchester said. “When you know, you just know.”

= = = =

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean smiled courteously, if not a little dramatically so. “You must be Castiel.”

As soon as his sentence finished from his lips, a high-pitched ringing jolted him, throwing him forward in pain. The only other thing Dean could hear was a loud pumping noise that sounded vaguely familiar. He tried to open his eyes, and everything was blurry as could be. Did Castiel strike him with something?

He panted heavily as his vision came to, and realized that Castiel was hunched, holding his hand to his head as if to relieve a headache, and was equally disoriented.

Gabriel, the other man, was just looking at the both of them, eyes darting back and forth. His neutral expression slowly grew until he busted with the heaviest laughter he had displayed all morning. “Did that just fucking happen!? DID WHAT I THINK HAPPEN JUST FUCKING HAPPEN!?” He continued to laugh more, and Dean’s eyes shot to Castiel, who was looking furiously at Gabriel with an intense rage. “This is the best day of my life!”

Dean slowly pieced it together, and if Dean understood correctly, this situation just got significantly weirder. He eyed Castiel again, who was now looking at him with equal anger. There was no way _that_ terrible feeling was the soulmate experience. Although, everyone always gave coy descriptors such as ‘Trust me, you’ll know’ or ‘It’s not something you forget or misinterpret’.

He met all the qualifications; they exchanged sentences, he heard the shittiest understatement of ‘singing angels’ ever, he got dizzy, he got breathless, and what he heard must have been a loud heartbeat, like from an ultrasound.

This meant Castiel Novak, the criminal terrorist he had been hunting for months now, who was currently holding him hostage and was going to murder him, was his freaking soulmate.

“Come on, Gabriel,” Castiel sternly ordered as he headed out of the room as quickly as he initially entered.

Gabriel, still laughing, was trying to recover his breath, just like Dean and Castiel were, although he was laughing at their misery, which seemed in-character for the man.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this conversation for the _world_ ,” Gabriel said as Castiel headed out before turning to Dean. “Looks like you’ll be living as Castiel’s _bliatz_ after all.” He continued to chuckle as he made his way out of the room as Dean was left bound to the chair to gather his thoughts.

What the fuck did he just get himself into?

= = = =

Jo looked over everything on her table as she had done for the hundredth time at least. Dean wouldn’t have been taken unless they were close to something, but there’s no way anyone would have known.

_Unless it was an inside job._

She looked around at all of the adjacent tables and agents. She thought about their tickets in their information system. As secure as it was, anything may have been susceptible to a cyber attack.

She exhaled in frustration. Would she be next? She couldn’t go home and risk being ambushed. But the mole was inside these walls, and she wasn’t much safer here. She’d never be able to get Dean back without resources, but she didn’t know who to turn to.

Bobby was the least likely to have betrayed Dean, but she had no guarantee. She could only trust one person right now, and this was the safest basket. She made her way to Bobby’s office and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” he shouted.

She opened the door and made sure it was shut behind her. She eyed the glass windows. They had a button that would immediately frost them for privacy, but it may have been suspicious to do so in case anyone else saw her enter.

She eyed up at the two security cameras in Bobby’s own office. Dang government agencies monitoring everything but they couldn’t find one dang traitor.

Bobby must have noticed her fleeting eyes because that’s what he’s trained to do, pick up on body languages. “Are you handling yourself alright? Do we have a lead on Dean?”

“Nothing yet, I’m hitting dead ends,” she stated, but as she talked, and as out of view as the cameras as she could, she signed with her hands an internal gesture to ask “Are there bugs in this room?” Usually this was either used for agents asking if they pre-bugged a room they needed, or if there was risk of themselves being bugged.

“We have every agent looking into this as possible, “Bobby said reassuringly, while returning the symbol that meant something along the lines of “No, but proceed with caution”.

“I just needed a breather, my emotions are getting to me,” she said out loud while signing “inside job”.

Bobby’s eyes widened with fear, but not in a guilty sense. “I was afraid of that,” he said, this likely being in reference to her sign. “That’s why I’m here. This is a safe space for you to unwind.”

Bobby was reassuring her it wasn’t him, which she believed. Dean had often said Bobby was like a father to him. Bobby got him into the FBI, after all. If anything, he treated Dean with some privileges that she definitely noticed. “We’ll find him together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaichki- testicles  
> shluha vokzal’naja- train station whore  
> Mne vse ravno- I do not care  
> bliatz- whore


	4. Chapter Four

Castiel led Gabriel all the way to his private penthouse after his encounter with Dean Winchester. Their walk was in complete silence, and it was a fairly lengthy trek through the underground tunnel secretly connecting Castiel’s luxury residential tower to his hidden base of operations.

Although the walk was in silence and he seemed calm for now, he felt like a pressure cooker ready to overflow with anger and violence.

As soon as they entered Castiel’s penthouse and Gabriel shut the door behind him, Castiel took a random porcelain figurine that was on a decorative table next to him and threw it at the wall, shattering it upon impact. “FUCKKKKKKKKKKK!” Castiel screamed as deafeningly as he could.

Gabriel immediately let go of the laughter he had been holding back their entire commute from Dean’s cell to the penthouse. “I cannot believe this! I was always looking forward to the day you’d meet your soulmate, but I never expected _this_!”

“Do _not_ call him that!” Castiel shouted, approaching Gabriel with anger, standing over him dominantly in an attempt to strike fear in him. Unfortunately, his brother knew him all too well.

Gabriel boldly pushed Castiel’s pointer finger away from his neck with a shit-eating grin before stepping away from his looming brother. “But calling him ‘Dean’ or ‘The FBI Agent’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it you know? Listen, seriously, which sounds better? ‘Castiel, I’m on my way to torture our hostage, the FBI Agent.’ Boo, that was boring, right? So cliché. But try this;” he dramatically cleared his throat for effect before continuing. “-‘Castiel, I’m on my way to torture your one truest ever loving soulmate in the whole wide world!’ That sounds _so_ much nicer!”

“This is _not_ funny, Gabriel,” Castiel said as he rested his arms and upper body weight against the wall, trying to stretch to relieve some of the stress and tension he was currently experiencing.

Gabriel let out a dramatic gasp and his face was grinning widely as he slowly approached Castiel. “Are you….. _compromised_?”

Castiel stood up and pushed Gabriel out of his personal space. “No I am not compromised by this!”

“Then nothing’s really changed!” Gabriel said positively. “We torture him for the info, and then we kill him!” Castiel’s face twitched negatively and Gabriel smiled as if he was victorious in a prank. “Compromised!”

“Just-” Castiel interrupted, holding up his pointer finger to interrupt Gabriel. “I just need time to reassess this portion of the plan.”

“So I should hold off on the torture?” Gabriela sked patronizingly, earning another angered glance from Castiel. “I’m kidding! I already know you don’t want me to, nor would I hurt my future brother-in-law! The wedding will be _so cute_! Although, maybe a little awkward?” He made an indecisive noise to further dramatize his monologue. “I mean I’m sure you find a way past this, I really do-”

“GABRIEL! Enough!” Castiel exclaimed. “Get the fuck out and leave Dean alone!”

Gabriel gave his brother one final, victorious smirk. “Anything you say, bro.” He left the penthouse as requested, leaving Castiel alone to fester in his own anger. Everything was so meticulously planned. He can contingency plans for almost every hiccup. His hostage from the fucking United States of America being his fucking soulmate was not something he had a backup plan for.

He needed to calm himself down so he could think rationally. Vodka always helped with that. He made his way to his decanter and poured himself a glass, immediately downing it all in one swig before pouring another and making his way to his chaise, collapsing on it and sighing heavily.

He had gone thirty-five years without a soulmate, and he was at the height of his career, and was so close to finalizing his goal. He didn’t need a soulmate at his side to accomplish all of this so far, and he didn’t need one to finish what he started.

But with a heavy sigh, his thoughts lead him back to Anastasia…

= = = =

Castiel stood by the entryway momentarily. Anastasia’s back was towards him, but he could see a portion of her reflection from the vanity she was sitting at.

There were multiple other family members in the room; Mikael, Gabriel, Uriel, Rafael, Virgil, Rachael, Sofia.

Anastasia’s expression lit up when she saw Castiel in the door frame from the reflective glass. She turned around, smiling widely with the happiest expression Castiel had ever seen on her. “There is my favorite brother! Everyone, give us a moment together!”

They all politely obeyed, nobody feeling hurt. Anastasia was the oldest female of the family, and Castiel was the youngest child. With a large family, their parents only did so much, so raising Gabriel and Castiel mostly fell on her shoulders, so there was no surprise by their closeness.

She got out of the chair and Castiel got a clear view of her gorgeous dress and her beautifully painted face. “What do you think?” Anastasia asked.

“You are the most gorgeous bride in Russia, my dear sister,” Castiel replied. “Balthazar is a lucky man indeed.”

She smiled softly and urged him to join her on the edge of the sofa that was in the room. “Come, sit with me, Castiel.”

“Will I not ruin the dress?” Castiel asked.

She dismissed his claim with her hands. “It is my wedding day, dearest brother, and I will not take no for an answer. You’ve been away far too long.”

He chuckled softly as he sat down with her and gently cupped her face, safely enough to not ruin her wedding make up. “I worry the family resents me for not following the business.”

She gave him a dismissive noise. “We have too many cooks in the kitchen as is,” she assured. “We are running everything perfectly fine. At least one of us should be able to pursue their passions.”

Castiel chuckled. “The family thinks of my writing as a laughing stock.”

Anastasia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Only because they barely know how to read.” Castiel laughed heartily at her joke as she continued to look at Castiel fondly. “You were always the smartest of us all. I do not know where you got it from, but I am thankful.”

“Not as smart as my darling sister,” Castiel objected. “I know you do everything for our eldest siblings. The family business would fall apart without you.”

“Hmmm…true,” she confessed after a pensive noise, making the two laugh again. “I cannot wait to see your words on paper, brother. I want nothing more for you to publish dozens and dozens of manuscripts…free from the family, and around the arms of your destined soulmate.”

Castiel sighed heavily with a humored smile. “Not this again, this day is about you and _your_ soulmate.”

“And it’s been a magical time for me, Castiel,” she replied. “I simply cannot wait for you to experience the magic yourself.”

“I do not mind being alone, Anastasia,” Castiel objected.

“I know,” she replied. “But I pray for you to not be in a position where you have to choose to mind or not mind any longer. I want someone who will delight you and excite you and show you everything that you have been missing.”

“That is enough, Anastasia,” Castiel contested playfully. “You are done being ridiculous.” He stood, distancing himself from her, but reached out to her with your hand. “The only man who needs to see his soulmate right now is Balthazar, who is currently waiting for his bride-to-be!”

She scoffed with a smile as she sat up and took Castiel’s hand, rushing him over to the vanity so they could stand side by side in the reflection. His skin was pale, untouched; and her neck and arms were heavily decorated with crests, creeds, and powerful imagery. All the members of his family, save for him, were heavily inked as part of the family mafia aesthetic.

The images told stories of his family’s victories for generations; a testament to their united strength. Castiel never felt more alone than when he was surrounded by his family for not partaking in it.

“You are so handsome, brother,” she said softly. There was a bittersweet expression on her face. Castiel knew she was burdened with raising him, and burdened with carrying the rest of the family legacy. She was a woman now, but formerly a child, and that child once had hopes and dreams that did not involve war and crime. She sacrificed for the family, and she sacrificed for Castiel to have the life she couldn’t have, and Castiel always felt slightly guilty because of it. Anastasia said Balthazar was her soulmate, but he wasn’t even completely sure as there were numerous political benefits for the both of them out of it. Why did he deserve everything she couldn’t get to keep herself?

“I hope you find the man who will love you and take you far from here.”

“I could never leave you, sister, not permanently,” Castiel reassured, taking her hands. “I will be here for you, and the children you are bound to have, and hopefully by miracle, _their_ children.

Anastasia forced out a weak laugh, her smile growing slightly stronger. “I would love that, Castiel, but I don’t need you to watch over me. Our family is strong, unbreakable. Nothing will ever bring us down.”

= = = =

Castiel fought the tears that came to his eyes as recalled that memory. His glass was empty, and he needed more to drink. Back at the decanter station, he looked at the reflective metal tray underneath. His reflection showed his colorfully branded neck as his muralled, painted arms reached for the crystal container.

His entire family, save Gabriel by a miracle, was wiped out and decimated all because he was off across the continent writing some stupid book instead of helping his family like he should have. His selfishness cost his family _everything_ and it was all his fault.

He drank the remainder of the alcohol he had at the decorative curio. He opened the concealed freezer and there were no spare bottles inside.

He needed to avenge his sister, but her last wish was that he find his soulmate. He couldn’t fully avenge her with Dean lingering around as a liability, but there was no way this United States federal agent would want to become a kept man by his captor.

He didn’t know what to do now. He wanted to work up the strength to do what was necessary to get the information he needed, which involved hurting and disposing of Dean, but he wasn’t sure he could do that anymore. Not without knowing who he was dealing with.

He gave Gabriel orders to get Dean unrestrained. His cell had a bed, a toilet, which he was likely going to need soon, but he gave himself a few hours to sober up before reuniting with the man.

He entered the holding room of the fortress where Gabriel was holding Dean. He approached the cell cautiously, eyeing ~~his new soulmate~~ the man intensely. He was a fit man, exactly how an elite agent would be. He had to admit he was particularly handsome, prettier than some of the whores he had hired for himself. His piercing emerald eyes did affect him more than he would like to admit to.

“Enjoying the view?” Dean asked confidently, in a way that somewhat challenged Castiel. “I suppose we’ll have our whole lives to stare at each other. I think I’d be a particularly sexy silver fox someday.”

Castiel smiled softly as he stepped even closer. “You’re thinking that just because a fairy tale indicates I may love you down the road that it saves you from being killed within a few days. Sometimes we make rushed decisions that tend to hurt us down the road. I’ve made some before in my life, and you’ve made some too. If I kill you now and regret it ten, twenty years from now-” he gave Dean a playful shrug and a non-committal look. “-I guess I’ll deal with those consequences when I get to them, but you won’t be any less dead. I have more immediate things I need to achieve than finding love so forgive me for not going easy on you.”

Dean scoffed as Castiel gave him condescending puppy dog eyes that complemented his point. “So you’re a _do it the hard way_ type of man. I see why we’re meant to be.”

“Do you two need some privacy? This sounds erotic, which I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t two dudes and if one dude wasn’t my brother,” Gabriel said.

“Stay and keep watch,” Castiel ordered.

The captive man raised his eyebrows suggestively and grinned devilishly as he approached Castiel, grabbing the iron bars of his cell and leaned close to him. “You kinky bastard.”

“Very much so,” Castiel said. “I even have a playroom where you can be restrained all to my heart’s desire and all these fun little toys that’ll _really_ open you up, just maybe not in the way you’re hoping. I personally can’t get off until my partner is missing some toes and has been electrocuted to the point of organ failure.”

Dean let out a muffled moan from beneath a closed smile. “Sounds fun. My safe word is ‘Impala’.”

“I might forget,” Castiel replied cheekily.

“I’m unforgettable.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Are you _sure_ I can’t leave?” Gabriel begged,

“Be quiet, Gabriel,” Castiel ordered without taking his eyes off of Dean. “Why were you assigned to my case?”

Dean sighed heavily. “Just in case you needed to be seduced for information. They knew I was the hottest and tightest piece of ass in the office in case you needed to be milked for intel.”

“Well they misjudged my type by a longshot,” Castiel countered, regardless of how much of a lie that was.

Dean made a contesting noise with his teeth. “That’s not what our mutual headache and ear ringing said.”

Castiel let out a humored hum as he got an idea from Dean. “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me, Dean. How excited you must be that your soulmate is a crime lord. You get to be my sexy little trophy wife for as long as I want you alive. It’ll just me you and me and whatever tiny skimpy outfit I want you in.

Oh, you’re just going to _love_ Russia, Dean. How do you feel about an open relationship? I don’t get jealous, so I may need you to service some business men for a favor or two. After all, you love me just as much as I do you, so you won’t mind at all, right sweetie?”

Dean’s playful expression turned to an angry one, and boy was he cute when he was angry. Castiel smirked, having won a game of wits, but kept his poker face strong. The thought of sexual slavery made him physically nauseous and it was hard for him to come up with those lies, but he was playing a game of chess right now, and Castiel never lost at chess.

“Tell me why you were assigned to me and maybe I’ll keep you for myself,” Castiel insisted.

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “I’m good at what I do? I’ve slowly been slotted bigger and bigger cases, bigger fish to fry, but your assignment is unlike my previous ones. I maybe had the best availability.”

Castiel read his face intensely. He would have been trained to lie perfectly, but Castiel was exceptionally good at deducing people. He thinks Dean is telling the truth, which meant his next question might have little to no success.

“What do you know about Anastasia Miltoynov?” Castiel asked.

Dean was studying Castiel’s face as well, trying to deduce his reasoning for asking a question like that. “Not enough to help you with anything. I was a freshman agent when that case broke, the new guy.”

“Well then you’ll just have to tell me what you do know or who would know more, lyubovnik,” Castiel said in a loving tone that only partially masked his condescension.

Dean shook his head lightly. “You know I can’t do that, Cas.”

Castiel tilted his head, questioning the nickname his hostage had provided him. It intrigued him, partially. “Then I guess I’ll just need to _milk_ it out of you like you said.”

Dean’s cocky expression was back again. He was enjoying the tension too much, and Cas was as well more than he should. He needed to retain as much power as possible. “Milk me, drain me all you want, baby. The FBI is going to be on the highest of high alerts now. Even if I give you names, you couldn’t get away with kidnapping them all, let alone one more. You had one window and you wasted it on little ol’ me.”

Dean was correct, and Castiel was furious, although he was containing it well. “If you don’t have information for me, Dean Winchester, I don’t have much reason to keep you around. So you better think _long_ and _hard_ about our relationship, Dean. My longest relationship has been two nights long, and you’ve only got about one night left, milaya.” He gave Dean a charming, but threatening smile before making his way out of the room, sighing heavily and groaning once the thick iron doors were shut behind him.

He needed a hooker or some whore to relieve his stress right now, but currently he was only in the mood for cocky brunettes with stunning verdant eyes.

= = = =

Sam tucked Jack and Claire into the singular queen sized guest bed at his house.

“I’m tired of sharing a bed with Claire,” Jack whined. “When is Dad getting back from his work trip?”

Sam sighed heavily and put on his bravest face he could muster. “He doesn’t know yet, Jackie. His job has him very very overworked right now.”

“How come he hasn’t called?” Claire asked.

“He has no cellphone reception where he’s at. He needs to use this old booth that has a landline in it, and you pay with quarters, and because of the time difference and the cost, he can only reach me for a very short amount of time,” he lied.

“His job sounds so weird,” Jack said.

“It is, it’s so weird,” Sam said, almost laughing, but a crack from his emotions interrupted it. “Sweet dreams, you two, okay?”

“Good night, Uncle Sam,” Jack and Claire both said as he headed out the guest room and turned the light off , closing the door behind him.

As soon as he was out of the kids’ view, he rested his forehead against the wall and kept his eyes shut as hard as he could to keep from any tears coming out.

Eileen walked up to him, equally upset, and leaned up against him, rubbing his back as comfortingly as she could. They stayed for several minutes before breaking free.

Sam wanted to sign Eileen a sentence but it was so difficult due to how much they were shaking and trembling from his pain. “I…don’t know…how long…I can do this….” He forced out.

Eileen just nodded, holding back her own tears as well. “Me too,” she replied. “But we need to try for Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyubovnik-lover  
> milaya-dear/honey, the context was meant to be loser to 'sweetheart'


	5. Chapter Five

“If you don’t have information for me, Dean Winchester, I don’t have much reason to keep you around. So you better think _long_ and _hard_ about our relationship, Dean. My longest relationship has been two nights long, and you’ve only got about one night left, milaya.”

The smile Castiel gave him was insincere, laced with a threatening aura. The Angel turned away from him and made his way out of the room. The large vaulted doors shut and sealed; Dean could tell by their sound that they were secure, and Dean wouldn’t bebreaking out.

He looked over at Gabriel cautiously, trying to assess whether or not Castiel was bluffing. The man wasn’t paying much attention to Dean at the moment. There was a recliner chair he was lounging in, an interesting choice for a hostage room, but he had to commend Castiel’s leadership he supposed. Walmart wouldn’t let their employees sit, that’s for sure.

“You get cell service in here?” Dean asked, referencing Gabriel looking at his phone. Gabriel let out a small humored hum.

“Not enough to torrent pornography,” he replied in his thick Russian accent. “I may be able to swing you a magazine, though.”

Dean smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll bet. That conversation should be plenty…uhhh…what was this American phrase? ‘spank bank’ material? To last you a while, that is,” Gabriel genially replied with a playful smile.

“Have you spent a lot of time in America, previously?” Dean asked. He didn’t think Gabriel would actually answer much. He was the hostage here after all, although there was little Dean would likely be able to do with any information. He just wanted a distraction from his situation.

Gabriel looked at him curiously, also deducing whether or not he could or should divulge any personal information about his life. “In my twenties,” he replied. “San Francisco, Chicago, New Orleans, New York of course. Ironically, not DC.”

Dean nodded. “New York is fun,” he said softly. He didn’t know where to go from there, though, and it seemed pointless to try to get to know his captor. He laid back down on the small bed he was privileged to have.

His thoughts went back to Claire and Jack, Sam and Eileen, his best friends Charlie and Benny. He’d never get to say goodbye to them. Charlie and Benny would never know the truth. Gabriel seemed nice-ish to a degree, but he had no obligation to do anything for Dean.

He tried to rest, meditate, or anything as much as he could to kill time. Unfortunately, his anxiety riddled him with his life’s mistakes, regrets, and only negative memories. He tried to relive the positives as much as he could, but his brain just wasn’t going to allow it.

The iron doors opened up nearly two hours later, and Dean hoped to see Castiel, but it was just some other goon for a shift change.

“See you later, Dean-o!” Gabriel said cheerfully as he departed, giving him a salute. “Take good care of him, Roman.”

Roman didn’t reply, just gave a hum, and let Gabriel be on his way. Dean tried to pay Roman no mind. Roman didn’t speak to him, and Dean didn’t try to talk to this one either. However, minutes later, two larger armed guards entered, which hadn’t happened before.

Dean sat up and his heart began to race slightly, unsure about what this meant. Roman gave him a smirk and got up off of the chair. He took a small case out of his suit pocket.

“Hands behind your back, through the bars. It’s transport time,” Roman ordered.

_Fuck_. Dean’s probing earlier had scared them. He was being moved out of the circle. Jo would never be able to find him now. The guards lifted their guns and aimed them at Dean’s cell. Dean’s heart was pounding now. He was focused on survival, and being moved was better than being filled with raining bullets. He had to put all of his faith into Gabriel and Castiel’s humanity, which was equally terrifying.

Dean complied as requested. He made his way over to the bars and stepped backwards with his arms out behind him, extending his arms out of the cell. He felt a needle piece his skin. He was being injected with a tranquillizer. He winced briefly and felt a numbing sensation begin to spread.

“Mr. Novak likes a well-behaved man,” Roman said condescendingly. The needle was removed and Dean’s legs felt too weak to support his strength. He slid against the iron bars, slowly descending to the ground before the weight shifted too much, causing him to collapse with a thud.

He was still conscious, although his vision was going blurry and he felt himself getting weaker by the second. “It’s too bad Mr. Novak won’t get to see how well-behaved you can be.”

“Wha-?” Dean tried to ask. Roman’s statement kicked in his adrenaline. He Roman wasn’t moving him after all? His cell opened and he tried to crawl, but Roman was stronger. He grabbed Dean by his shirt and hoisted him up, dragging him. Another henchman brought in a gurney to whisk Dean away from the room. “No-”.

Roman lifted him and pinned him down to the gurney. He and the other henchman started to restrain his limbs with the straps. “I’m going to have a lot of fun, Mr. Winchester. Or, you can make this promotion very easy for me. It’s your choice.”

He was breathing heavily as the henchman wheeled Dean away through the concrete halls of the complex. “Don’t…do this…,” he forced himself to strain out.

“I’m just trying to move up the corporate ladder, Dean. A working man such as yourself should understand. You don’t have a job left to go to, that doesn’t mean you should prevent me from doing better in mine,” Roman explained.

Dean was wheeled into a sanitary looking white room covered in tarps, which wasn’t a very good sign of what was about to come.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me,” Roman said as he prepped another syringe with another unknown liquid. “I need you to answer some questions.”

Once the liquid was prepped, he made his way to Dean and forcibly turned his head to the side, inserting the syringe into his neck.

It felt as if he was blood was freezing solid and ice was coursing through his body, the kind that was cold it made your skin feel like it was being burnt off. He let out a loud scream as the searing pain spread to his face and chest. His brain, his throat, and his lungs were all experiencing the harshest chemical pain he ever fathomed.

“What federal agent was in charge of bringing down Anastasia Miltoynov?” Roman asked.

Dean was too busy suffering from the searing burns that were coursing through his body to think about answering Roman. He thought he was being lit on fire from the inside out. It hurt so badly to breathe, but he was hyperventilating due to the lack of oxygen. The extra work his lungs were doing while they were under duress was only making his situation worse.

“What happened to the apprehended children during the raid, Mr. Winchester!?” Roman asked angrily, and impatiently. He took a scalpel and dug it into Dean’s side, causing him to yell at the top of his weak, burning lungs through his aching throat. He thought for sure the pain caused by his screaming was enough to knock him out, but something about the drug must have also been keeping him awake.

Roman dragged the scalpel down, tearing through his flesh, and Dean wanted nothing more than for the pain to kill him and put him out of his misery. He would spill everything he could if the pain could magically stop.

Dean felt like his heart was going to stop. Before he could choke out any words, he heard gunshots outside the door. Had someone come to rescue him? Would it be Jo? Roman looked terrified. He quickly left Dean and went to dig through desk drawers, presumably for a gun.

The door was loudly kicked open, and on the other side was a very furious looking Castiel.

Roman began to talk in Russian, something Dean couldn’t understand, but he seemed to be pleading, desperately. He got more afraid as Castiel approached. Castiel grabbed him by the neck and began to squeeze before pulling Roman towards him to get the momentum to thrust Roman’s head against the wall. Castiel pulled and pushed repeatedly, slamming Roman’s skull against the wall again and again until Dean heard a crack and a squish, followed by a heavy thud.

Castiel quickly rushed over to him, but he was too delirious, and his vision as too affected now to read his face.

“Everything is going to be alright, Dean,” he though he heard Castiel say before everything went dark.

Dean sat straight up with a strong gasp, as if he had just woken up from a nightmare. What happened? Where was he? He was a hostage, that’s what he remembered. He remembered a cell and the white room. This room was blue, and he wasn’t on a gurney or anything uncomfortable. It was a bed, a soft bed, and the room looked ordinary.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice asked from down the hall.

This was his chance, he could break free and fight him mano-a-mano. He got out of the bed and charged his way around the corner where Castiel was alone and unguarded. With a furious growl, Dean prepared himself to tackle Castiel, ready for a fight.

Dean clashed with Castiel, or at least was expecting one, but he just sort of felt himself be lifted, repositioned, and flipped up before he was held in place firmly over Castiel’s shoulder. The next thing he heard was an angry Russian dialect as he felt multiple spanks on his ass, and it felt like _nothing was cushioning the blows_. Was he naked right now!?

“I see the adrenaline hasn’t worn off,” Castiel growled as he flung Dean forward to land on the bed on his back, which immediately caused a searing pain on his chest. He looked down to see bandages on the side of his ribs in addition to _his dick fully out in in the open_.

He quickly rushed his hands to cover himself. “Why am I naked and why am I bandaged up?” Dean asked furiously.

“Because one of my subordinates thought torturing you would please me,” Castiel said. “They were mistaken. Now I need to make sure you didn’t just get your stitches ripped open, so I’m going to need you to let me check the bandages.”

“That doesn’t answer why I’m in missing clothing,” Dean replied angrily.

“Because you needed to be washed up,” Castiel said towering over him, keeping his hands firmly pressed on Dean’s shoulder to prevent him from getting up again. “I assure you the integrity of your asshole is still the same as prior to you being kidnapped. Now, stop being difficult and let me check the bandage for you.”

His voice was dominant and threatening, and because Dean’s penis hated him, he felt himself starting to chub up under his hands. He quickly grabbed the comforter of the bed and pulled it over him to provide more cover.

Castiel gave him a knowing look and a smirk as he pulled back the adhesive bandage that was protecting his wound. The peeling of the adhesive on the sore skin was discomforting, but nothing would be as painful as whatever he was injected with.

As his hands held the soft comforter and his head rested on the soft pillow, he realized the absurdity that he was in a nice room with proper furnishings as supposed to the cell he was expecting.

“Why did you save me? I thought I had nothing to offer you and our 48 hour relationship ran its course,” Dean said.

Castiel gave him an unreadable look, and turned his attention bac to Dean’s stitch work. “Consider the record broken.” Dean wasn’t sure how to take that, but he had to assume that what Roman did really was just an unauthorized fluke, and he wasn’t in immediate danger _yet_.

“Why the room upgrade?” Dean asked.

Castiel sighed with annoyance at Dean’s questioning. “Consider it an apology for the inconvenience.”

Dean laughed heartily at the understatement. “Inconvenience,” Dean repeated. “What the fuck did he inject me with. Did that give me cancer? There’s no way that didn’t give me cancer or anything worse. That pain was nothing I could ever imagine.”

“And how are you feeling now?” Castiel asked sincerely. Dean blinked and thought about it. Aside from his stitches and the whole area that was actively cut up and bruised, he felt completely healthy. He had workouts that left him sore for days, but the torture liquid seemed to have no lasting impression.

“I actually feel fine aside from my side and my dignity from being sexually manhandled in my sleep,” Dean said.

“I injected you with the antidote almost immediately,” Castiel explained. “It’s very useful for prolonging the torture when needed. We’re both very fortunate I had some on hand. As far as any alleged sexual manhandling, I maintained my professionalism, _mostly_.”

“Mostly?” Dean questioned.

Castiel chuckled. “You were cleaned thoroughly, but you were not penetrated, stroked, or sucked in your state of unconscious.”

Dean let out a small hum as he considered Castiel’s words. Castiel seemed genuine about it, and there would have been other opportunity. He could have been kept in a sex dungeon right now if Castiel wanted it. The man also had a first aid kid on hand, ideally planning for Dean to be re-examined and healed as needed, and he was being very careful. “And the spanking?” Dean asked playfully.

Castiel let out a small entertained smile and gave Dean a hungry look that re-hardened Dean underneath the comforter. “You tried to escape. That was just discipline.”

“Maybe I should try to escape more,” he replied flirtatiously. Castiel just shook his head, but he looked more amused as opposed to angry, which a captor may react if their hostage threatened to escape.

“Go ahead and move your right leg for me, baby,” Castiel ordered with an equally taunting expression, but _fuck_ , hearing this Russian Mafia boss call him ‘baby’ did something to him.

He rolled his leg around under the covers and definitely felt something that didn’t belong. He pulled the covers back and noticed he was now branded with an ankle monitor.

“Sonofabitch,” Dean replied defeatedly, earning a small chuckle from Castiel.

“You don’t want to abandon your soulmate, do you, sweetheart?” he asked condescendingly.

Dean gave him an annoyed glare. “So we’re back to it being like this?”

Castiel gave a mischievous grin. “You have a nice bed, a television, and you got what I would consider a _very nice_ spanking. I don’t know what other needs you need me to fulfil at the moment, but you’ll have to settle for that for now.”

He got off of the bed, and for some reason, Dean felt a pang of disappointment inside. “The windows are reinforced. Anything that could be used as a weapon on us or yourself has been removed from the suite. You have fresh clothing in the dresser. Gabriel will bring you food at mealtimes. More trustworthy guards are posted out the door. Your ankle monitor also has a small explosive if tampered with or if it gets out of range. Please don’t do anything stupid as I’d love to have _both_ your ankles on my shoulders on our honeymoon.”

Dean smiled at the condescending flirtation/threat he was receiving with the detailed list of contingencies that would counter any idea Dean came up with. “What time will you be home from work, darling?”

Castiel chuckled. “You think I would stay in a room like this?”

Dean looked around curiously. The bedroom was nice, and the small glimpse of the living room he saw when he charged at Castiel at least indicated it was a classy apartment. “You need more?”

Castiel gave Dean a cocky look as he slowly approached Dean once more. He found where Dean’s thighs were and set his hands on them, on top of the comforter, supporting his own weight as he leaned into Dean’s personal space confidently with that expression they gave each other when they tried to bait one another.

He leaned in and had his mouth right next to Dean’s ear. “I guess you could consider me to be a…. _size enthusiast_.”

If that sultry tone and suggestive imagery didn’t already go straight to Dean’s dick, he would have been done for when Castiel put his lips on Dean’s neck to give him a simple kiss before pulling back immediately, staring him down. He walked backwards until he got to where the room opened to the hallway and he gave Dean a wink before vanishing out of sight.

The kiss and the stare sent electricity through Dean. The kiss was chaste, but he initiated something physical. They weren’t just on innuendos and entendre, Castiel _kissed_ him. Dean knew it was only to get under it skin _but it was working_ , and Dean didn’t know how to feel about that. The man was going to seduce every US secret out of him.

He had always loved the chase when he picked up people. In a world of soulmates, it was sometimes a challenge to convince people to bend over for someone they weren’t destined to be with. Dean enjoyed being the player in his youth, and he definitely missed it now. He wasn’t too used to being on the receiving end of these mind games, but he could tell Castiel was thriving in them, relishing his victories over Dean.

Fuck Castiel.

= = = =

It had been nearly a week since Dean was taken, and Jo was nowhere close to anything substantial. She didn’t even know if Dean was dead or alive at this point. There had been no ransom or demand from Castiel Novak, so without an offer to at least entertain the possibility of Dean being returned, she could only assume he had been executed.

She had been going through stacks of files, photos, and records in secret under the guise of being under protection due to the incident, which was a half truth.

Bobby did have her at a protected location, but he arranged for her to have access to the tech and resources she’d need to keep looking, which was not standard protocol. She wasn’t sure how he swung it.

She compiled several dossiers of their teammates who may have a motive to betray Dean. Bela Talbott and him had a weird competitive and sexual energy. Plus, she was always shady to Jo. Dean also rejected the advances of Rowena, but that was most likely not enough reason to collaborate with Russians.

Crowley and Ketch were power-grabbing narcissists that Jo would never trust. They were thick as thieves, so if one was behind it, they both were.

She was thoroughly looking into similar Russian mafias the FBI previously looked into when she stumbled across a photo. It was from several years ago of someone walking a bride down a wedding aisle.

She squinted closely at the man. It looked like Castiel, but so different. His expression was unlike any other photo she’d seen of him, and he had no tattoos on his body at all, and the Castiel she knew of was the most inked up criminal she’d ever seen, and she’d seen plenty.

“Anastasia Miltoynov,” Jo said. “What do you have to do with Castiel Novak?”


	6. Chapter Six

Castiel was sitting at a restaurant table with Gabriel at his side. They were in a dimply lit private booth that was partially secluded from the rest of the diners. The two of them had opened up the bottle of wine that they were given, and they were both sitting on the same side, looking towards the entrance, waiting for their guests to arrive.

Two well-dressed gentlemen made their way to their table, and both Castiel and Gabriel stood up to greet them appropriately. “Thank you for meeting with me today,” Castiel said with firm handshakes. “I know the decision was not made easily.”

“I owed a great personal debt to Anastasia,” the man said as they all took their seats.

“Many people did,” Castiel replied. “And in the aftermath of her execution, all allies were scattered into the winds.”

“For good reason, Mr. Novak. As you know, an empire does not topple so easily. Especially one as formidable as the Novak family’s,” the man replied as he poured himself a glass of wine. “I met with your sister about two months prior to that terrible day.”

He took a small cannister out of his pocket and removed the lid to procure a small paper strip. The man dipped the paper into the wine for a few seconds before removing it to examine it. Although Castiel still had some in his glass, he took the bottle next and poured a few additional ounces for himself. Once the bottle was set down, Castiel took a drink himself out of good faith.

“I’m not here to poison you, Markoff,” Castiel reassured.

“It is not you that I am worried about,” the man replied before he took a sip of his own drink. Castiel cocked his head curiously as he waited for the man to quench his thirst so he could hear the rest of the story. “As I was saying; I met with Anastasia two months before the raid. She had expressed concerns she no longer knew who to trust. Minor inconveniences became less minor, and more frequent. Se thought inside information was being leaked.”

“A mole, a saboteur,” Castiel replied.

“Precisely. She came to me seeking advice on how to flush the rat out,” he explained, sighing heavily. “Sadly, I worry if I accidentally accelerated her inevitable betrayal.”

“If it was inevitable, I do not hold you in any fault,” Castiel said. “I also had my suspicions, but I do not believe I have uncovered any leads. It would not have been immediate family. Gabriel and I were the only survivors. Gabriel, did you benefit at all from our sister’s murder?”

“Quite the opposite. I was on a world tour of debauchery and I had to give up the life to help my dear bretherin restore the order,” Gabriel replied.

“I did not imply your brother,” the man replied.

“I know, I am walking you through my thought process so you may help me. The next removed set of people would have been close allies, family friends, such as yourself; however, to my knowledge, you have no competitive businesses that would have benefitted from her removal. However, I was not familiar with all of Anastasia’s contacts. I have exhausted the lists that I had, and they have provided minimal leads.”

“So what is it that you need from me?” Markoff asked.

“I’d like names of anyone you know that may have been close to Anastasia, or anyone that may have used our competitor’s services in addition to ours. Maybe they were not happy with a deal?” Castiel suggested.

“I will provide you with what I can once I am able to gather it, for Anastasia,” Markoff said.

“It would be greatly appreciated,” Castiel said. “Before I let you go, I have one more question, if I may.”

“Of course,” the man agreed.

“Your advice for flushing out the rat,” Castiel said. “What were the instructions?”

The man contemplated in his mind for a while before leaning in. “Getting out a mole is a psychic game of chess. You must act as if the perpetrator can read your every thought. You are _never_ to make any indication that you know or even suspect. You cannot withdraw their tasks, you cannot withdraw their responsibilities. You also cannot start treating them better with performative kindness or promotion, as it raises suspicion. You can _only_ get rid of a rat by catching it in a trap, or killing it on sight.”

“Killing it on sight would imply I act before evidence,” Castiel said.

“Well, it is like I say: If it looks like a rat, walks like a rat, and it’s in your kitchen, it may be better to kill it before it shits in your food anyways. What is worse? Losing 1-3 employees due to careless actions, or losing your empire?” Markoff said.

“That is incredibly risky and potentially short-sighted,” Castiel said. “I pride myself of being methodical, meticulous. I must plan everything and prepare for every outcome.”

“So did your sister,” Markoff replied. “And look at what happened. If you are diffuse a bomb properly, you need to know how much time is remaining on the clock. While you are waiting, another bomb may be about to blow somewhere else.”

“But yet if I were to kill the wrong suspect, the real traitor would either recoil or run,” Castiel countered.

“And if they run, you have a suspect. There are pros and cons in every decision, every outcome,” Markoff replied.

“Which is exactly why I wait to make decisions. Was there a point to this exercise besides instigate me? Did you torment Anastasia with these mind games and pressure her into making a bad decision as well?” Castiel asked flustered.

“On the contrary. I fear I may have given too little things to think about,” he said. “I trust you to make the right decisions.”

Castiel sighed. He felt like he was making bad ones as of late. He’s trapped himself with an FBI Agent he can neither release back or get rid of. “Well, thank you for your time,” Castiel said as he stood up and shook the man’s hand to bid the man farewell as he and his bodyguard left the restaurant.

“Do you trust he will provide valid information?” Gabriel asked.

“I have contingencies in place if he doesn’t,” Castiel replied. They made their own way out shortly after. They got into the backseat of their car and the driver made his way to bring Castiel back to his residential tower.

He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath to take the edge off his stress. The entire day he had talked to potential allies, roughed up and threatened enemies. He even put a bullet in someone’s brain today. His day started early and it ended late, and if he was being honest, and he not had a moment of resting at the restaurant with that wine, he’d have burnt out hours ago.

He wanted to go home, and he entertained the idea of going home to _Dean_. He wanted to imagine that Dean was not his adversary, that he was Castiel’s partner in crime for a moment. He’s come home from a long day at work, and Dean would be waiting for him. He’d make Castiel a drink from the decanter before giving him a massage as Castiel sat on the couch and Dean stood behind it, ask him about his day, put little kisses on his forehead before he’d move from behind to Castiel to in front. Then, he’d sink on his knees, wrap his beautiful digits around Castiel’s belt buckle to undo it, free his hardening cock, and take it all into his mouth while staring right at Castiel with those shimmering verdant eyes.

Okay, so maybe this fantasy of Castiel’s wasn’t exactly _romantic_ but sexualizing his incredibly hot hostage was significantly better than dwelling on the fact this man was his _soulmate_. They were destined by fate to genuinely love each other to unbreakable extents. For better or worse, knowing the deepest insides of each other and choosing to stay. Somehow, Dean was supposed to be okay with everything Castiel had done, and somehow Castiel was supposed to trust his enemy with his life.

He didn’t know how he was going to get out of this situation with Dean. He needed to finish what he set out to do. He needed to kill his family’s traitor first of all, and then he had to find _them_.

“We are here, Mr. Novak,” the driver said politely.

“Thank you, Gavrie,” Castiel said as he and Gabriel exited the vehicle and entered the lobby of the residential tower. It was so late, the lobby was very empty and quiet, just as Castiel liked it. He waved to the doorman, who was naturally one of his own guards to keep an eye on the ground level entrance.

“You okay, brother?” Gabriel asked with concern in his voice.

“I’m just tired,” Castiel said.

They entered the elevator and Gabriel hit the button for his floor, and then was about to take his card that needed to be scanned before Castiel’s penthouse could be chosen, but Castiel reached an arm out to stop him. The look Castiel gave him wasn’t stern or angry; in fact it was the most neutral expression he had ever made. He had no idea what to feel or think, and therefore his face has nothing to reflect.

He sighed heavily and then moved his finger to press the button for Dean’s floor out of morbid curiosity. Part of him felt like he would regret this decision, but something about having a potentially terrible night with Dean still seemed better than going home alone.

Gabriel didn’t smirk or tease him or anything like that, which Castiel found incredibly suspicious given his brother’s nature, but Castiel wouldn’t pry to have his asshole brother change his mind and start.

Gabriel stepped off on his floor and gave Castiel a salute with his fingers before walking away. The elevator began to rise again as it sanded to Dean’s level. This entire floor was actually for his staff; no normal residents allowed.

If Dean were to cause trouble, nearly every door would open and an armed guard would stop Dean from leaving. _Because that is how you treated a soulmate._

He stepped off the elevator and made his way down the corridor all the way to Dean’s room. The guard nodded to greet Castiel as he inserted his key card to unlock the door.

The electronic lock made the disengaging noise and he stepped into the suite slowly. The lights were off in the living room, but he had left the kitchen light on to dully illuminate the rest of the suite.

He made his way to the bedroom and saw that the door was open, light was off; he was probably sleeping. He should turn away and leave, not to disturb him, _but Castiel couldn’t resist him_.

He slowly approached, trying to be as quiet as he could, until he could lean against the wall and look at Dean.

He couldn’t see much. The kitchen light barely had anymore influence this deep into he suite, and the hallway was offset as well from the light source. There was also the thick, pillowy comforter the man was wrapped up in. Castiel supposed Dean laying fully naked on top of the comforter with only a small washcloth covering his cock was both unrealistic and not practical for his temperature, but it would have made for a nice view.

“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s creepy to stare at someone when they sleep?” Dean asked.

Castiel let out an amused hum. “You sound awake to me.”

“You woke me up when the front door unlocked,” Dean replied.

“Ah,” Castiel said. “Do they teach you to listen for that in FBI School?”

“Can’t tell you,” Dean replied.

Castiel smirked. He liked Dean’s joviality and witty banter. He too often could only commune with dull, stiff individuals. “Do you want me to go?”

Dean didn’t reply as quickly to that question as the rest. He rolled over and was now looking towards Castiel, although he could barely tell. There was the smallest reflection of light in one of his eyes only momentarily. “What do you want me to tell you? You are a crime lord and I’m your hostage.”

There wasn’t rage or pain in those words. No poison from what Cas could tell, but it was an unpleasant truth to their situation. “The truth. Did you want to see me today at all? Talk to me? Did you have any positive thought about me at all?”

Castiel heard the rustling of the comforter and shifting of the mattress as Dean sat up and raised the dimmer next to the bed to get a little light in the room without blinding each other. Dean would be able to see Castiel was tired, sincere, hollow, lonely. Maybe Cas could play this off tomorrow that he was only pretending to be vulnerable to get to Dean. He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything when it came to Dean.

Dean looked like he was trying to come up with a joke. Maybe he’d say he only thought of hate fucking his throat or something else degrading, but he was tired too. “Yeah, I thought I’d see you sooner.”

Castiel stepped into the room cautiously, still staying close to the door. “And how did you feel about the prospect of seeing me?”

Dean looked at Castiel curiously, trying to use his FBI brain to deduce an angle, gauge information. “I was indifferent. It felt like an obligation, something I’d have to do.”

Castiel nodded understandingly. Dean was the captive was no rights and a shaky view of his future; of course he didn’t’ view Castiel with the same positivity.

“Sorry to disappoint, Cas,” he added.

Castiel smirked. It was the second time Dean called him that nickname. Maybe he was sleepy, but he liked it this time around. “I wanted to see you,” Castiel admitted.

Dean looked at him with pity. This wasn’t the sexy, alpha Dean that wanted to challenge Castiel when he was in the cage. There wasn’t going to be teasing, taunting, or sexual riling here. “What were you expecting, Cas? I’d greet you with a homecooked meal and you’d tell me about ‘your day at the office’?”

Castiel smirked. That _is_ what Castiel had fantasized about, with less fun details of course, but yes. “Maybe not a homecooked meal,” Castiel replied. “But talking to you sounded nice.”

Dean huffed. “So you want to talk about your day? You had a long hard day of selling guns, torturing people, murdering people?” Castiel winced. Dean’s tone was heating up now.

“I did.” Castiel said. “I beat people today, and I killed someone.” Castiel hated this part of the job. He didn’t want this life. He asked for an out, and he got it temporarily, and he was paying for it ten fold. He didn’t even try to hide the pain in his voice.

“Poor Castiel Novak. He had such a hard day of being a crime lord, wandering all around Russia where he’s untouchable and can do whatever he wants because he got rich off of the blood of god knows whom. You know who he should have a heart to heart with? His _fucking_ hostage!”

Castiel let out a soft smile, not because the words were funny, but because the opposite. They cut him so deep his body was tricking him into feeling positive to prevent from breaking. “You think you have me pegged. I’m going to do myself a favor and chalk this up to you having a bad day and being cranky for me waking you up. Goodnight, Dean.”

He made his way out of Dean’s suite, fighting back the tears. He was so fucking stupid imagining any life with Dean would be possible. Castiel was a villain in Dean’s eyes and always would be. It didn’t matter if this mission of Castiel’s had an endgame. The end wouldn’t be justified by the means.

He arrived at his own penthouse and grabbed a bottle of vodka he was so thankful he restocked up on. He didn’t need a glass or a fancy ice sphere. He drank straight from the bottle and made his way to his bed where he could wallow and hopefully fall asleep rather quickly. His head hit the pillow and the gentle buzz in his head along with the physical exhaustion of his day accomplished just that.

He woke up the next morning when the sunlight breached the glass walls of his penthouse suite, which was earlier than what he was wanting. He was still pissed over his interaction with Dean, but more so himself.

He tried to be soft and caring, take a high road, and Dean practically spat in his face, and not in the fun rough sex way he would have preferred.

Maybe he should throw Dean back in the cell since he wanted to be ungrateful. Hostages didn’t get lavish five-star suites with a king-sized bed, food delivery, and Netflix. Dean needed to be punished for his behavior.

Castiel sighed and shook away his angry thoughts. Castiel only killed who he needed to for his goal. Castiel only hurt those who interfered with his goal. He was _not_ going to be unnecessarily cruel to Dean just because he hurt Castiel’s feelings last night.

Everything Dean said was true. Castiel was a villain in Dean’s life right now. And until he knew how to remedy that, that’s what Castiel would be stuck as.

He had a small idea, and it’s one he didn’t like. A stronger Castiel would have pushed this idea down more, but he was still feeling desperate enough to follow through with it.

He got out of bed, and realized he fell asleep in his dress shirt. At least the pants find the floor- that would have been uncomfortable.

He entered his walk-in closet, which was size of a regular person’s bedroom. He’d have to skip a shower today, so he opened the curio cabinet that had deodorants and fragrances and he quickly applied the products necessary to prevent him from being revolting. He got dressed in his usual business-ware and took a deep look at himself tin the mirror.

He could do this, he thought to himself. There were two additional doors in this walk-in closet; one led to the master bathroom and the other led to a miscellaneous storage room. The storage room had been assigned his arms room. There were cabinets and a professional work station, a metal grid wall with some mounted rifles and weapons, and Castiel loved _almost_ everything in the room.

He made his way to the large work station in the center of the wall. Under the light was a singular book sandwiched between two book ends holding it upright, surrounded by guns and miscellaneous modification parts.

He breathed tensely as he delicately removed the book from its spot. He looked disdainfully at the cover before letting his arm fall to his side as he left the room with the book in hand.

He left his penthouse and entered the small room that served as a security partition between his penthouse door and the elevator. Two guards were outside his door, as was their duty.

He sloppily raised his arm, having the book connect with one guard’s chest. “Make sure this gets to Dean Winchester,” Castiel ordered.

The guard nodded and gabbed the book from Castiel, and The Angel made his way to the elevator to start his day.

He made his way to the hidden bunker and navigated the concrete halls until he got to one of the vaulted rooms, similar to where Dean was held.

He entered the room and there was a man and a woman each separately bound and gagged in a chair. Gabriel was already waiting for him , which he was surprised for.

Gabriel gave him a look as if to ask ‘late night with the boyfriend?’ to which Castiel responded with a glare that read ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ before turning to the two people in the room.

“Good Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Bortnik. I’m sorry to interrupt your weekend, but Mr. Bortnik’s services are needed,” Castiel said. He made his way over to the man and removed the gag from his mouth.

“Please let us go! We will do anything!” the man instantly began to plead.

“Don’t worry, you will both be let go upon completion of a task,” Castiel explained. “Let me explain why you are here and what I need you to do. About five years ago, the American government raided a warehouse where the Novak Family Mafia was operating. They were killed on the spot with no survivors except for a few apprehended low-level footmen and two infants who were being watched in the far rooms away from the chaos and the bloodshed. Those children were taken to social services, and the agent who presided over their case waaaaaassss…….,” Castiel dragged out the note as the fear and realization hit the man’s face.

“Gleb Bortnik! Correct!” Castiel replied enthusiastically. “Their names were Klarina and Jokmija Miltoynov, and I desperately need to find them, and you are going to help me with that.”

“Those records…”, the man began to weep. “I only initially place them, I won’t have a way to beyond-”

“I don’t need to hear the details about how you’re going to do it, Gleb,” Castiel replied. “When there is a will, there is a way. And besides-” Castiel moved away from Gleb and approached his wife who was looking more fearful with every step he took towards her. She began to pant and scream under her muzzled mouth and Cas quickly dove towards her while gracefully positioning himself behind her, holding her head with a previously concealed, now unsheathed pocket knife to her throat, which intensified her yell.

“Don’t hurt her!” Gleb yelled.

“-I think I won’t have to. Mrs. Bortnik, don’t you want Gleb to find these two little children for me so you can go home?” She cried as she nodded gently, careful not to run her throat into Castiel’s blade. “I think with proper motivation, anything is possible, Gleb. Don’t sell yourself short! I am sure you’ll find a way to get me the information I need. And if you don’t, I mean, I guess we’re back to the bachelor life!”

“Please no! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” Gleb begged, crying through his fear. Something in the man’s expression intrigued him. He was so terrified to lose her.

“She’s your soulmate, isn’t she? When you spoke to her for the first time, you had the whole dizzy lights, ear ringing obnoxiousness, yes?” Castiel asked.

“Y-yes,” the man replied with confusion.

“How long did it take to feel the love?” Castiel asked. This questioning wasn’t necessary. The man had already agreed. Castiel didn’t need to ask these dumb questions, but his spat with Dean affected him.

“W-what does that have to do with-”

“Answer the question!” Castiel yelled.

“Immediately! We exchanged numbers, arranged a date, and it was a magical evening,” Gleb wept.

“And that is why you’re willing to do anything for your soulmate….because their bond is that deep. They do anything for each other….” Castiel replied slowly, working through his own thoughts, no longer paying mind to the wife.

“Y-yes,” the man agreed.

“Angel? Are you okay over there?” Gabriel asked.

Castiel brought himself up from the hunched position around Mrs. Bortnik’s throat. He straightened his tie before looking back at Gleb with his dominating confidence returned that he had only briefly set aside.

“You are going to be released so you and go to work and start your search for the Miltoynov children. Your wife will remain alive as long as you have sufficient leads to provide. If you go to the police, she will die. I am going to bring you into another room, Gleb, and you will experience first hand what your wife will experience if I feel you are not working diligently enough. I don’t want you underestimating the stakes or what I am willing and capable of doing to her.”

“No, please! Please don’t!” Castiel approached his hostage and re-applied the gag to muffle his cries and screams. The wife was now crying harder as well, probably to protest the abuse and torture of her husband. Gabriel opened the vault doors and two guards entered with a gurney to transport the man.

One of them prepped the transport as the other prepared a sedative needle to move him effectively. Castiel tuned out the noises of the wife as Mr. Bortnik was removed from the chair and placed on the gurney to be rolled away to Castiel’s white room.

“Have a good evening, Mrs. Bortnik. Let’s hope your husband is good at his job,” Castiel said before he left the vault.

He got to his penthouse that evening for a break. Mr. Bortnik had been sufficiently tortured all while Castiel pressed on the fact that all this would happen to his wife next if he did not deliver.

He made his way to his bathroom and stripped off his shirt and tie. He turned the faucet on and splashed some cold water onto his face to shock his senses, to ground him. He brought his head up and he stared at himself in the mirror; at the violent, tattooed gangster staring back at him.

This person was so far removed from the man he once was, the man he longed to be, but could never recover.

He shucked off his pants, briefs, and stepped into the shower. He thought about Dean and how he would react to the events that happened. What would Dean think about using someone’s soulmate as leverage and extort their love for one another. One’s love for their soulmate was supposed to be the most pure thing, and Castiel had weaponized it as a weakness, and not for the first time.

Castiel wasn’t even sure if he could follow through with his promise on letting her go, but Mr. Bortnik wouldn’t have a chance. Hope was a funny thing that way. It is the only thing that will keep Gleb going. It is the only thing that had kept Castiel going the past few years. It is likely the only thing keeping Dean strong right now.

Hope that Castiel would find his niece and nephew. Dean’s hope that he will either be rescued or released by Castiel. His own hope that Dean would decide he didn’t want to leave him. That last one was absolutely unlikely, but yet, Castiel was clinging to it.

After he was done washing himself, he stepped out and got dried. It was too early to retire for the night, but Dean didn’t want to see him, so he wouldn’t.

He didn’t go seen Dean that night. He didn’t see Dean the next. He stayed busy on work; following the leads Gleb and Markoff provided and avoiding seeing Dean another date. It wasn’t until he was doing a late night in his office, looking through documents that he had been provided when he was approached by one of his guards.

“What is it?” Castiel asked.

“You know how you told us to make sure we gave Mr. Winchester whatever he requested?” the guard asked.

“Yes, I am aware. What does he want?” Castiel asked.

“He asked to see you,” the guard replied.

That brought Castiel’s attention away from the papers he was scouring. “Oh?” Castiel’s face must have been squinching in confusion. “What did he say exactly?”

“When we dropped off his dinner, he asked when you were going to see him again, and we advised that you were a busy man. He responded with ‘Well, tell him he’s forgotten about his soulmate and he’d like a word.’,” the guard explained.

Castiel let out an amused hum. “And when was this?”

“Just now, sir. I thought it best to deliver the message prompt,” he replied.

“Good. That means I can let him wait for a while. Thank you. You may return to your post,” Castiel instructed.

The guard nodded and excused himself. Castiel bit his lip as he contemplated how long to wait Dean wait. An hour? Two hours? A day? He sighed as he looked down at the scattered papers on his desk. He could use a break, although he wasn’t sure how relaxing his time with Dean would be. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t missing Dean immensely and it was taking all of his resolve and willpower to stay busy and distracted so he could keep his distance.

Why did Dean want to see him? Was he missing Castiel, or did he want information and he realized he wasn’t being given opportunities to lull them from him? Maybe he’d seduce ‘The Angel’ into giving him his freedom? He figured he’d never know until he saw Dean.

He decided he would take a shower first. He would have freshly cleaned hair, unwrinkled clothing, a spritz of cologne. It was just to kill time, make Dean anticipate. It had nothing to do with wanting to impress the man, he told himself.

He made his way to Dean’s suite, knowing he was going to regret this decision immensely, but sometimes people just want bad things that will hurt them because they’ll make them feel good first. It was an agreeable tradeoff.

He let himself into the suite and saw Dean sitting on the couch. He was watching TV. He turned to Castiel, his expression was one of surprise. “Cas,” he replied with astonishment before he went to pause the TV and turned back to him.

“I was advised you had requested to see me.” Castiel said flatly.

Dean let out a humored huff of air. “I didn’t think I’d have to beg for a visit.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow and took some cautious steps towards Dean and the couch he was sitting on. “You made it clear you didn’t want to see me.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well, I didn’t _then_. You had woken me up in the middle of my sleep. I had a nightmare just prior. It wasn’t a good combination.”

Castiel continued to approach and he gestured to the couch. Dean nodded, granting permission to the unspoken question. Castiel sat down and brought one of his legs up on the couch, but not getting _too_ relaxed. “What was the nightmare about?”

Dean just stared at Castiel hesitantly, unsure to speak. “Do you really want to know?”

Castiel felt guilt in the pit of his stomach. “That means it was me, or being here.”

Dean nodded slowly. His face was neutral, though. It wasn’t bitter or angry at Castiel. “Look, I can’t lie and say it’s been rainbows and butterflies. I appreciate you not having me rot in the dungeon for two weeks while carving me up, but it doesn’t erase the situation we’re in.”

“I know,” Castiel said. “That’s why I thought it best to not rub your nose in it, let you cope without my presence.”

Dean tilted his head in a curious manner. He looked like he wanted more to say. “But that doesn’t help the _other_ situation we’re in. Some cruel deity wanted us to be connected.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what Dean meant or if he was even being sincere. He was an FBI Agent, a master strategist and manipulator. Castiel shouldn’t let his guard down. “Are you saying you missed me, Dean?” Way to give him the correct, Castiel. How was he to complain about his heart being played with if he’s give Dean the strings and a how-to guide?

“I don’t know,” Dean replied, which surprised Castiel. It sounded sincere enough. It wasn’t the answer Castiel wanted to hear, and Dean likely knew that, but it was honest. “We don’t know each other at all. The flirting was fun, the innuendos, but I don’t know you well enough to miss you. Only enough to be intrigued and-”

Dean looked like he regretted his sentence, and Castiel saw a flush of embarrassment. “ _Long_ for me?” Castiel asked with the sultriest tone he could manifest. Dean chuckled and shook his head. “It’s ok, Dean. I’m sure a man like you can fuck whenever he wants, and this is likely the longest dry spell you’ve had.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and smirked at Castiel. “Maybe when I was younger, but I’m old now. I don’t have the time.” Castiel wanted to ask more, but he felt like he wouldn’t get an answer. They would need to continue to warm up to each other.

“How much do you fuck, Cas?” Castiel raised his eyes to meet Dean’s. He was looking at Castiel with intrigue. “Some of those guards of yours are pretty hot.”

Castiel smirked. “I don’t fuck the guards. I hire whores. About once a week.”

Dean had a surprised expression, and Cas wasn’t sure how to take it. “Is that a Russia thing or a crime lord thing?”

There was no jab or tone of insult in Dean’s question, so he likely just meant it as Castiel being removed from the rest of the common public. “A bit of both,” Castiel said. “We don’t have Grindr, and I can’t exactly pick up guys when I want to.” Dean just looked at him, processing the information. “Does that bother you?”

“I guess not really,” Dean said. “On the slight chance we somehow _do_ get this _thing_ between us to work, we’ll have to each be ok with a lot.”

So Dean was planning ahead, or at least pretending to. As much as Castiel wanted to be on edge and on he defense to protect himself from Winchester’s potential sleuthing, it may be better for him not to. He was confident in his defenses and security. Dean wouldn’t go anywhere unless Castiel wanted him to. As soon as he found where in Russia his niece and nephew were, they’d escape into hiding and it wouldn’t matter where Dean was released to. Maybe he would need to let his walls down if this was going to have any real chance.

“Did you read that book I gave you?” Castiel asked.

Dean let out a surprised smile. “I did, I assumed you’d want to talk about it. Like a boyfriends book club thing?”

“Is that what you are now?” Castiel asked playfully. Dean just gave him a wink that made Cas’s cock twitch. He wished he could have met Dean in a bar instead. They could’ve hit it off, had amazing earth shattering sex, realized they were meant to be, and skipped all this drama. “What did you think of it?”

“I thought it was incredibly intriguing. It felt very Vonnegut to me. A nomad travelling to a city that doesn’t exist, all the while every stop on his visit he’s reminded of the home he is trying to leave. The irony was not lost,” Dean explained with a smile. He was charming when he smiled, and he was smart too. Dean continued to give a college level analysis, all while Castiel listened, his resentment being fueled with every word.

“I’ve gone on a tangent, you look annoyed,” Dean apologized. “I used to love reading. I used to do decent in school. Not as good as my brother, Sam, but better than what people expected of me. My dad used to make me feel so stupid, and I thought pouring myself into school would change that. If I had grades like Sammy, maybe he would have liked me better.”

That caught Castiel off guard, the remorseful look Dean was giving the floor. He cleared his throat and tried to fix his expression for Castiel. “Enough about that. Back to the _book_ ,” he emphasized, taking the attention away from himself. “Is this your favorite? Is this why you had me read it? Because it’s good. Do you have more stuff of this James Morningstar guy?”

Castiel just looked straight through Dean, keeping his pain and anger as below the surface as possible. “I hate this book more than I hate anything on this planet.”

Dean just stared at Castiel blankly as he processed Castiel’s words before a laugh was choked out. Dean slowed himself when he saw that Castiel’s neutral, albeit slightly mournful expression hasn’t changed. “That’s insane, why would you have this book or have me read it?”

“Because this book is the reason my entire family was murdered, and I wanted you to realize that, Dean,” Castiel said. His tone was serious, but soft. Dean was looking at him curiously, not understanding. “In the original version of that book, the Nomad doesn’t come across a town that didn’t exist. He was going to found it. He was going to use his experiences and the payoff was that his choices mattered and he’d get to be in control of his own life for once. All of those circumstances that were out of control were no longer going to matter because he had preserved and with determination, he broke free.

But as it was being written, when the author was on the other side of Europe, the government raided his family’s headquarters and instead of being detained and prosecuted, they all got gunned down on the spot!”

His voice had spiked, and his hands were shaking. He wasn’t sure how long they had been doing that. He blinked, and his eye lashes felt wet. He didn’t want to look at Dean. He didn’t want Dean to see his face. He didn’t want to see if Dean was pitying him or not.

“In your detailed analysis, you missed something. He didn’t end up the next closest town, defeated. If you picked up on the mention of the town flower at the start of the novel, you realize that at the end, he really didn’t escape at all. He’s right back where he fucking started.” He sniffled to keep the snot from running out of his nose and down his face. He still adamantly refused to look at Dean.

“I didn’t want this life, Dean. I desperately tried to have absolutely nothing to do with it. I was raised to be a soldier against my will, and I hated everything about it and there’s nothing I wanted less than to be in the position I am and doing to the things I do to people. But I abandoned my family, and in their hour of need I wasn’t here to protect them. I could have done _something_ if I hadn’t fucked off to France to write this stupid fucking book!”

He felt two arms wrap around him, and his instincts kicked in to defend himself from his attacker. He shoved his assailant and had him pinned down on the couch when he realized it was Dean’s eyes under him.

“It was a hug, Cas! I was trying to hug you!” Dean shouted.

Castiel quickly got up, removing himself from hovering over Dean. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Instincts,” he muttered as he repositioned himself awkwardly on the end of the couch, giving Dean distance.

“That’s fair, that was my fault,” Dean apologized. “Can I try that again?”

Castiel shook his head and wiped a tear from his eye. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to, though,” Dean replied. “If you’ll let me that is.”

Castiel wasn’t sure how to answer that. He had never asked for a hug before. He’d ask guys to get on their knees and to suck his cock, but how was he supposed to ask for something as innocent as a hug? Dean scooched closer to Castiel, still looking at him with hesitation, eyes asking for permission. Castiel just let out a small nod and Dean scooched closer and slid his arm behind him, gently tousling his fingers through his hair as he placed his right hand on Castiel’s chest, rubbing it gently.

The intimacy and vulnerability was making Castiel tense. “If you snap my neck, they’ll notice eventually and then kill you,” he forced himself to warn.

“I’m not going to snap your neck, Cas,” Dean replied reassuringly. Maybe he should have been offended. Maybe he picked up on Castiel being defensive about their closeness. “You can relax for a bit.”

“Easier said than done,” Castiel said as he tried to ease himself under Dean’s touch. He wasn’t like this. He was supposed to be the boss. He was supposed to be the one with power, the one in control. This stupid FBI Agent had to ruin everything.

He let himself enjoy being held by Dean for a while. He never really let himself enjoy anything. Even the prostitutes he ordered were to fulfil a need. They stimulated him in the places he wanted, and they did what he wanted for his pleasure, but he didn’t _enjoy_ the experiences. They were rushes of endorphins at best and a moderately effective stress reliever. This was better.

He couldn’t take it much further than this tonight, though. He didn’t think they were on that level yet, even after one moderately productive talk. But it was the start of something, maybe.

“I should get going,” Castiel said. “You need to get to sleep.” 

Dean looked like he was thinking something over as he scooched away from him to give him space to sit up. “Before you go, I want to ask a very fair question. I do not want you to feel manipulated, so I will respect if you do not tell me.”

Castiel looked at him questioningly. It was business related. He would reserve judgement for once Dean asked. “What is it?”

Dean sighed, looking nervous. “So, you show me this book, you tell me you wanted out of this life. You state you do not like doing what you’re doing, so I think you want to tell me something. I get it, your family got killed, but what about that brought you back? What are you trying to do? Restore the legacy?”

Castiel contemplated. Dean knowing the plans or the goal _could_ jeopardize something. He was transparent about telling him he could choose not to answer. Whether it was sincere or not, Castiel would never know- his paranoia was always too high for that.

But part of him _did_ want Dean to know the truth. He wanted Dean to trust him, even though Cas was afraid to trust Dean. He couldn’t have it both ways, he supposed. But he wanted Dean to know him for him. If he ever wanted to get back to the man he used to be, Dean would need to know he was working on it.

“An empire like my family’s doesn’t go down so easily. Someone sold us out, and their betrayal got everyone killed. The only survivors were my sister’s children who were taken into social services. I sold the book I wrote to get some initial funds and resources to build _this_ ,” he gestured vaguely at the building they were in, “-so I could re-infiltrate this world, find leads on who betrayed my family, and acquire more resources so I can continue to search for my niece and nephew. The _second_ I put a bullet in that bastard’s face, and I get those kids in my arms again, I am quitting the life. I’m going into hiding with them. The FBI can try to keep searching for me if they so desire, but I promise you that I will be done doing activities to even be on their radar. You can decide whether you want to believe that or not.”

Dean just continued to stare at Castiel with a pensive expression as he contemplated everything. Maybe Dean was applying it to his case. Or maybe Dean was trying to figure out where that left him. Cas was trying to figure that out too.

“Anymore questions?” Castiel asked.

Dean shook his head. “I figured I pushed my luck with that one, anyways.”

“Probably,” Castiel see. “I guess I’ll wait and see how that decision screws me over.”

Dean nodded. He wasn’t sure if he was empathizing, or just acknowledging his concerns. “Will I get to see you tomorrow?”

Castiel sighed. He wanted to see Dean everyday, but maybe he should reel himself in a bit. Tonight was overindulgent. If Dean _was_ playing him, Castiel gave him sufficient ammunition to do so. “We’ll see. I’m on a time crunch, you know. The FBI is diligently looking for both of us, you know.”

Castiel left it at that. There was no need to remind them of their uncomfortable situation even more. Not when they had a moderately nice night. Maybe he should make an uncomfortable sexual joke to ease the tension. He decided against it though as he made his way to the door.

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel said.

“Goodnight, Cas,” Dean replied softly.

Castiel nodded at Dean and left Dean’s suite. He shut the door behind him and placed his forehead against the door, wishing he was still in Dean’s arms with their foreheads pressed together instead.

= = = =

Gabriel was at a bar downtown, enjoying his night off from Castiel’s schedule. He threw back a shot of vodka and looked around the room. Castiel only had male guards, and it had been a few weeks since he had gotten any. He ordered the occasional prostitute, but he felt better about himself when he was able to pick up a girl on his own.

He casually swept his eyes around the bar to scan the room, but not wanting to appear shifty. His eyes laid on a blonde woman who was drinking a martini by herself. He got off his chair an made his way towards her with a charming smile.

“Good evening, miss. Do you need another martini?” Gabriel asked.

She gave him a skeptical look as she contemplated his offer. “Usually, I would say no, but it’s been a rough day, so I guess why not?”

“I’ll take it,” Gabriel said with a smile. He gestured to the bartender to bring them two drinks and turned to her. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

She let out an embarrassed smirk, but continued to stay in his company. “Liliya. Will you remember that?”

Gabriel gave a fake falsely offended visage. “Of course! I am a gentleman! I am Gabriel, but if I’m just eye candy, I’m okay with that.”

She let out a chuckle as the bartender dropped the drinks off at the table. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabriel.” She grabbed the martini and gave Gabriel a cheers before she took a drink.

“Why was your day so bad?” Gabriel asked.

She set her drink down as she swallowed her drink. “Boss and coworkers are just assholes. I need a new place.”

“What do you do?” Gabriela sked.

“Human Resources,” she said as if to make fun of herself as she took another drink. “You?”

“Business analyst,” Gabriel said. “Boring stuff, just spreadsheets and telling the higher ups what we can do to improve, what gets cut.”

“Whatever pays the bills,” she said. “It pay well?”

“It does pretty well. I don’t make what the CEO or VPs get, but I think I do well,” Gabriel said.

“Congratulations. Don’t worry, I’m not looking for anything,” she said before contemplating. “Well, I’m not looking for your _money_.”

Gabriel smiles and has a sip of his drink. “Well, we can stay here and have a few more drinks, or we can head out.”

She smirked and picked up the toothpick that had skewered the olive that came with her martini. She placed the olive delicately between her teeth and pulled the pick out seductively before letting the olive fall in her mouth. “I’m not much of a conversationalist anyways,” she said after she ate her olive.

“Your place or mine?” Gabriel asked.

“I just have a motel room, but it’s close,” she said. “Don’t plan on staying the night, though.”

Gabriel smiled, having struck gold with this woman. He didn’t have to host, didn’t have to feel bad about kicking her out or leaving, and she was incredibly sexy. “Lead the way.”

He paid the tab and they made their way to Liliya’s motel. She kissed him in the elevator as they waited for it to get to her floor and she pulled him by the tie to her room.

They stumbled into the room and the door shut behind them. “How do you wanna do this?” Gabriel asked.

“Take off your shirt,” she said. His fingers fumbled through his buttons undoing them one at a time. She placed her hand on his chest and walked around him, her hand trailing over his arm and over his shoulder. As he had his eyes down, looking down his half unbuttoned shirt, he felt a sharp pain in his neck, but only for a moment.

When Gabriel opened his eyes, his vision was disoriented. It still looked like the motel room he had been brought to, but Liliya was looking much less friendly. He felt his arms restrained around his back and he looked down to see rope on his torso. He and his legs have been bound to a chair. He had been played like a sucker.

“Thank you for waking up,” the blonde woman said in English, her Russian accent no longer existent.

“American,” he said with a cocky smile.

“FBI,” she said proudly. “I’m looking for Dean Winchester.”


	7. Chapter Seven

Dean Winchester watched as Castiel left his suite, leaving Dean with a complicated mix of his emotions. If he could just forget everything about his situation and who Castiel Novak was, then Dean could admit that curling up next to him on the couch while running his fingers through his hair had been the most magical night of his life.

He wished he could have held Castiel longer. He wished Castiel had been happier. He wished Castiel wasn’t a mobster. It seemed Castiel wished he wasn’t a mobster as well, if Dean could believe it. He thinks he _does_ believe it, though.

The writing in that book was immaculate. It was incredibly unlikely that style of prose came from an amateur novelist. That came from someone who studied literature immensely, who would have needed to practice their writing craft relentlessly over years to perfect. If Castiel was actively a criminal his entire life, he likely would not have had the time for this side hobby.

Dean was trained to read people. He was trained to pick up on lies and see through false personas and disguises. The Castiel he saw tonight was the most authentic Castiel he had seen so far, and Dean wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Once Castiel found his family and put his family’s murderer in the ground, Castiel said he was going to flee. What does Dean do with that information? What position will Dean be in? Is Castiel planning on taking him with? Cas said the FBI would never find him, and Dean remaining a hostage would mean that they had a reason to keep searching; so is Dean back at the FBI in this scenario? Would Dean resume his fruitless chase to find Castiel, or is he supposed to just be content in America without ever seeing Castiel again?

There’s still the option that Cas has Dean killed. Ironically, that was sounding like the easiest, most hassle-free option. But if Cas really hated being this person, he didn’t think that scenario would need come to fruition.

He sighed as he let himself collapse on the couch. It felt so empty now. Was Dean crazy for wishing Cas had stayed? He didn’t know enough about the man yet for him to rationally want that. Currently, he only knew the worst parts of Castiel, but part of him felt like maybe that didn’t matter.

He forced himself off of the couch and she slumped his way to his bedroom alone. He took his clothes off and slid under the soft, cool comforter. Dean moved his legs up and down, sliding them along the smooth sheets. It was an enjoyable tactile sensation that helped him relax and appreciate whatever bed he was in.

He moved his hand gently around his chest and torso, coaxing him into a lulled state so he could fall asleep. His fingertips climbed up and down the curve of his pecs and shook as they traversed the bumpy ridges and indentations of his abdominals.

He imagined that his hands were Cas’s hands instead. He imagined the strong, dark-haired man at his side, pressed up against his body, roaming Dean. He wondered if Cas was a selfish lover when it came to the guys he paid. He wondered if that would change with Dean. Although, sometimes the idea someone just having their way with you could be hot.

His cock started to chub and he bit his lip as a hand moved down to grab it. Castiel had dick sucking lips, Dean had noticed. Maybe Cas was one of those guys that loved to have a mouth full of cock, and they thought _they_ were on the winning end. Something about him gave that feeling.

He pulled on his cock and let the free hand massage his chest some more. Even if Castiel was a cock-sucker, he was the boss. He was strong, dominating, knew how to be aggressive. Dean imagined seeing all of Castiel’s tattoos pinning him down and fucking Dean hard. He knew Castiel thought about it when they first met; a nice rough hate fuck to show Dean who was in charge. Maybe they were past that now. Maybe Cas could channel it back.

He stroked faster. Maybe he’d make Dean do the work. Tell Dean to sit on his hard cock and bounce on it to serve his master. Would he want to see Dean’s whimpering face or would he want Dean turned around so he could watch his round ass take all of him? Cas had the possibility of being rough and domineering, as well as sweet and intimate if he chose to be; Dean wondered what version of Cas he would be getting-either sexually or just daily.

He started to spray on himself under the covers and he choked out a pleasured grunt as he came. God, he shouldn’t want to be fucked by a man who might kill him, but the man was just so goddamn hot. Not to mention their witty banter was electrifying, and the sincere moment he shared with Cas tonight felt like a comfort Dean had never felt before.

He left his bed to get cleaned up in the bathroom before making his way back under the covers. It was time to sleep now, and he let himself ease down from his orgasmic high. Whatever this was with Castiel, whatever was going to happen, he had no choice but to continue to take things one day at a time.

Dean woke up the next morning with the sun coming in through his window. He stretched and smiled from the dreams of Castiel he had through the night. He left his bed and headed into the bathroom to take a shower and get dressed.

He wiped away the fog on the glass of the mirror. His bruises from being manhandled and his car getting ran into were all healed now. Cas or one of his on call doctors had been taking care of his scars from that rogue employee. It was healing fairly nicely so far, but that would take a bit longer.

As he put on all of his clothes, he heard the front door open roughly, and there were multiple heavy footsteps incoming. Could it be that his team was here to rescue him? He stepped out of the bedroom to see a very angry Castiel and a good amount of his personal guards, all with guns aimed at him. He shot his hands up and his heart began to race.

“Cuff him. Blindfold him. We’re moving, Dean,” Castiel ordered sternly. Dean didn’t have time to question when two guards approached him and pushed his arms down, locking cuffs around him.

“Cas, what is going on?” Dean asked as a blindfold was being placed over his eyes. He didn’t receive an answer, and Dean was pushed forward. “I’m barefoot!”

Castiel gave out an order in Russian as Dean was being blindly manhandled and escorted through the suite. He was shoved down and he luckily landed on the couch. Hands grabbed his feet and slipped on socks and shoes quickly before he was lifted back up.

Dean grunted at the rapid movement and tried to keep up with the guards who were quickly moving him. Something was happening. The location must have been compromised and that is why a sudden evacuation was necessary. His team was close, and they were looking for him. Maybe it was even Jo.

They were in the elevator next, and it was moving down. Someone was anxiously tapping their foot on the floor. It was likely Castiel. Whatever was going on, it had him on edge. Dean actually felt more concerned for Castiel than he did about himself right now.

The elevator stopped and they were escorted somewhere echo-y. He wasn’t sure where the initial concrete area he was being held at was in comparison to the suite, but it was possible he was headed back there.

“Am I going back in the cell, Cas?” Dean asked as they made their way to wherever their new location was. There were too many guards to take on, especially with his hands behind his back, and Dean still had the ankle tracker. Hopefully Castiel remotely handled the explosive aspect he mentioned earlier, but it would likely be activated again if he tried anything.

“No,” Castiel said angrily. “Just stay quiet.”

After walking a few more minutes, there were the distinct noises of car doors being opened. Dean really hoped he would get a backseat and not a trunk. “Get in,” Castiel’s voice ordered.

He was, luckily, being angled into a car’s backseat. The guard even put Dean’s seatbelt on for him. There was someone to his right, he could sense, but he didn’t know if it was a guard or Castiel. “Cas, are you with me?”

There was a specific sigh that was exhaled from the individual that made Dean feel at ease. “Yes.” Dean was expecting maybe a little bit more, but that was on him he supposed.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?” Dean asked.

“I haven’t decided,” Castiel said flatly. “Take that as a good sign. Now I highly recommend you do what you can to not irritate me.” Dean let out a defeated huff. This was _The Angel_ \- the cold-hearted, uncaring criminal. This is not the man he wanted Dean to believe he was last night. Either last night was fake, or the stakes were high right now.

They drove for a few minutes, but it was relatively on the shorter end. But a fifteen minute drive is all that was needed to completely expand the search radius. The car parked and Dean heard Castiel get out before his own door was opened and he felt himself being pulled away.

He made his way into whatever this new building was before being sat in a chair. He felt rope being wrapped around him, and now is when he started to worry. “Not this, Cas. Please tell me what’s going on.”

Once he and his legs were fully restrained, the blindfold was removed. He appeared to be in a random warehouse-esque space. Definitely prime for torturing. Castiel wasn’t looking at him, and he seemed stressed, like he was contemplating something and he was very uncomfortable.

“Thank you. Leave us,” Castiel ordered. The guards obeyed Castiel’s order and made themselves scarce. Dean wasn’t sure if he found comfort in that idea or not.

“Are we back to this, Cas?” Dean asked with concern in his voice. He wasn’t even asking for his own safety, he was asking for Cas.

“I need to weigh all of my options, Dean,” Castiel explained. “Every last one of them, even ones that involve killing you. This is why I am going to need your complete and utter honesty and cooperation because if I have nothing left to lose, then I will be sure to go out that way.”

Castiel was visibly on edge. Even when they first met, he was rude and cocky. That’s because they were in a situation Castiel had the control in, the power. Something has happened to make him lose that power.

“Gabriel has been taken, presumably by the FBI as a bargaining chip to get you back. If that is the case, I will comply with full integrity. He is the only family I have left, and if the choice is between having him or losing him to keep you, then I will have to choose Gabriel,” Castiel explained.

The FBI was here. He was close to rescue. He could see Jack and Claire again. But at what cost? Why would the universe give him Castiel as a soulmate if he wasn’t able to keep him? Sure, soulmates were lost due to shitty fates o stubborn prides, but they were a sound bet; that’s why they existed for Christ’s sake!

“If the FBI wanted to initiate a change, how would they do it?” Castiel asked.

Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he racked his brain. He wanted to genuinely help, but he was crossing into treasonous territory. He wasn’t sure how Castiel’s questions would progress. Being too altruistic and sincere with Cas could jeopardize the country, and his chance of returning home.

“Uhm” Dean stuttered as he searched for the words. “First, they’d need a way to contact you, obviously. We didn’t have any phone information of yours when I left, so unless it was somehow unearthed, Gabriel would have to spit it out or lead him to you, which I believe we just evacuated.”

“Do you have a way to contact them?” Castiel asked. Dean thought about his answer. He had Joe’s work number memorized. He could compromise her safety and the integrity of the device, but they could track him, or they could arrange the deal as intended. It would be risky, but it kind of opened more doors than a standoff of nothing.

“I think so,” Dean asked.

Castiel nodded. “Let’s assume I am able to set up a personal exchange. What are my odds of both Gabriel and I getting out?”

Dean tensed up. The odds would be against Castiel for sure. There would be multiple incognito agents, hidden snipers, a helicopter on standby to track the getaway car’s every movement. If there were any bodies of water remotely nearby, they’d be positioned. However, this was Russia, and if Cas operated quickly enough, the amount of agents available to them would be limited. He had no way of knowing how many were here.

Telling Castiel the truth might prevent the meeting, which would prevent him from being rescued. Leaving Castiel in the dark would get him captured and/or killed. “Not good,” Dean said.

Castiel rubbed his temples. “Is Gabriel at risk of getting killed?”

Dean hesitated. Castiel was definitely the big name. He had deduced Gabriel was a major player, but he wasn’t the boss. Life in prison was definitely more likely. “He’s definitely not in any immediate danger,” Dean reassured. “If they think they can get information on him, he will be left alive. If he stays in their possession, I assume life imprisonment.”

“How long until they extradite him?” Castiel asked.

“Shit, I- I don’t know. It varies by country. Russia may decide they want him to be kept and tried here if we don’t have enough information to validate there are enough US-based crimes to try him with us,” Dean said. “Maybe at least a week starting with when and if they choose to go that route.”

“And do you have evidence of us committing crimes against the US?” Castiel asked.

Dean chuckled. “A few of your guns were used in crimes with US interests or risks to US persons, and as far as I know, only one US victim,” Dean said. “It’ll be your government to decide on that.”

Castiel muttered something angrily in Russian. “I hate Gabriel.” Castiel sighed heavily, looking broken and defeated. “I was so close. I finally had leads on my niece and nephew. I just want to make sure they’re okay. Even if they’re not with me, if they’re safe and happy, I could have peace with that. I may even find the strength to let go of our family’s betrayer if I knew no harm had come to them.”

Dean actually felt pity, which was not typically common for hostages to his knowledge; but he knew a lot about criminal profiling and what drove people to crime. It was often poverty, sometimes narcissism, but immense grief always yielded a few interesting stories.

When many people felt immense grief, they fall into a slump. Its hard to accomplish tasks, and you fall into a routine based out of necessity for self-preservation. The amount of resolve it took to persevere despite grief is impressive. Sure, he wished Castiel had channeled it differently, such as more books and finding a life other than this, but Dean knew Cas’s grief was real and intense.

Even right now, Castiel wasn’t prioritizing his empire. He was prioritizing getting Gabriel back. Gabriel was probably trained to die for the family or accept life in prison for his family, but Cas wasn’t letting those be options. He could escape with Dean, continue his search for these kids, but he wasn’t.

“If one of these consequences of whatever you decide gets me back at the FBI, I will do what I can to see what happened to your sister’s kids,” Dean said. “I don’t want that to influence any decision you make, though.”

Cas let out a small hum through his frown. “Kind of hard for it not to,” Castiel said.

“Sorry,” Dean apologized.

Castiel just stood in silence, looking away from Dean. “What do you have back in America that is keeping you from staying here with me? If we ran away, we could go anywhere. I could take you to Paris or Venice. We could stay in the finest hotels with the most gorgeous view you could imagine. You wouldn’t need to work. We could have breakfast catered to us in bed and then we could make love in it, if that is ever something you’d want with me.”

There were tears in his eyes and strain in his voice. He wasn’t worried about how Dean could manipulate this vulnerability, or maybe he was and chose to be vulnerable anyways. A part of Castiel _wanted_ to be happy with Dean. Dean just wasn’t sure how large that part was or how realistic it could be. “Is there any part of you that would ever want that? Would you ever be able to trust me or love me after all I’ve done?”

_Yes_ was the first thing that came to Dean’s mind. He knew it was crazy and reckless, but Cas was his soulmate, and it was for a reason. “I know there’s good in you, Castiel. And the answer is yes because I would love to see that side of you. I’d love to see the Castiel who didn’t have to be the soldier he was forced to be. Castiel Novak the writer who sees the world the way a writer does. I’d definitely take a sex-filled European holiday away from work any day,” Dean joked. Castiel let out a soft chuckle and a smile.

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like what comes next?” Castiel asked.

Dean’s breath was shaky. It’d be nice to fantasize that life with Castiel. Dean was trained not to give his enemies anything personal for the enemies to ever use against him. Assume at any point you were being manipulated for weaknesses that could be exploited. But he was good at reading people, and Castiel was not that person, or at least he wasn’t being that person with him.

“I gotta get back to my kids,” Dean said.

The words shocked Castiel from his wistful daydream about his future with Dean. He looked broken. He didn’t know about them. Dean wasn’t sure how much information he had gathered in advance, but he kept the secret pretty well due to the job.

“Please don’t lie about that,” Castiel said. “You don’t have to tell me why you don’t want to go with me, but please don’t-”

“I’m not lying to you, Castiel. I’d give us a real chance somehow if I could, but not at the risk of them, and I know you don’t want to choose me over Gabriel either. We can exchange a hundred hypotheticals, but you’ve had weeks to plan what to do with me. If you have any option on how we can have it all, tell me.”

Cas let out a small smirk, but it wasn’t a happy one. It was when you laughed at the irony of losing, or you were so impressed with being beat. “It was hard enough to plan a life always on the run. I don’t think I can get your kids to join us, and I get the feeling you’re not going to want me moving in given the circumstance.”

The air was thick and tense in the room for a few moments. “I have to give you back,” Castiel said softly. “I can’t live this life anymore.”

“Cas-” Dean instinctively protested. Why was he protesting? He should be happy with his. He should have actively been trying to encourage Cas into letting him go this whole time, but he never did, nor was anything his intention. If Cas gave him up, that was the end of this.

“I’ve made bad decisions, Dean,” Cas said. “The past several years. My fixer was right when he said I should have killed you, but keeping you around is the only decision I’ve made in years that hasn’t tormented me. Well, at least not in my nightmares. You’ve been pretty pesky in some fantasies, but I manage to put you in your place in those.”

Dean let out a weak laugh. He didn’t want it to end like this. “Are you sure?”

Cas shook his head ‘no’. “I’m terrified. Just,…if I get life in prison in the US, tell me you’ll visit.” Dean’s faced winced, he didn’t even want to consider Cas being locked up for life. “A conjugal visit sounds lovely.”

“Only if you promise me you’ll drive that getaway car fast so I won’t have to,” Dean replied.

Castiel nodded. “I need to make some calls to arrange this safely. My fixer is on the way. You’re going to be a little uncomfortable for a while but I’ll make sure you’re brought food.”

“Really?” Dean asked exasperatedly. “I _really_ got accustomed to the suite.”

“Blame Gabriel,” Castiel said as he walked by Dean and kissed the top of his head before resting his own head against Dean’s. “I promise to give you a slightly more romantic kiss before we say goodbye, if that’ something you’ll want.”

“I’d like the kiss. I don’t want a goodbye,” Dean said.

Cas let out a smile as he pet Dean’s hair. “Sadly I don’t think we’ll get to avoid it. Just know that I’d wish I had met you under better circumstances. I wish I could have met you before I became this man. If I had you to love me through the pain, I’d never have needed to go down this road.”

“If only,” Dean said.

Castiel left and one of the guards came back in. Dean tried to close his eyes and picture a life with Castiel to pass time. Honeymooning forever across Europe sounded tantalizing to an extent. He wished he had more time with Castiel to gauge if he could ever be the person Dean wanted him to be. Dean didn’t see himself becoming a criminal instead.

It would have been rude and selfish to expect Castiel to change at all even. Really, why were they soulmates? If the universe wasn’t going to make it easy for them, why were they put in each other’s path, especially like this?

They could have met on a nice Caribbean gay cruise, not with Dean being his hostage when looking into his criminal profile. If Cas had never come on his radar, maybe they could have had a Mr. and Mr. Smith kind of life. Cas could have kept his job in the closet forever and there wouldn’t be any moral implications on his end.

He sighed. He couldn’t even be happy with the one person that was supposed to be guaranteed happiness.

The guards changed after a while and the new one had food for Deana s Castiel promised. He had to be fed with a fork, which was humiliating, but maybe it would all be over soon. If Cas was being serious, if he was really going to be freed, he’d get to see his children soon. He was going to hold them so tight.

Castiel came back a few hours later with some cases and began setting up an intricate computer set up and a hardwire phone. They were preparing to make an untraceable call. Cas was really going to exchange the trade.

“Walk me through this, Dean. Am I going to want to leave the number unidentifiable?” Castiel said. “I may need them to follow up.”

“Yeah, you might. It looks like you’ve got location masking, so I don’t think you’ll be exposed,” Dean said.

“How will they answer?” Castiel asked.

“She’ll likely answer as a flower shop or bakery. We usually respond with a code word, but if you call her Joanna and introduce yourself, she won’t hang up,” Dean said.

“Fair enough,” Castiel said. “What’s the number?”

Dean provided Cas the number and one of his employees began to type away at the computer. Castiel made his way over to Dean holding the phone for both of them to hear as it rang.

“Sunnyshine Flower and Nursey,” Jo’s distinct voice greeted. “How can I assist you today?”

“Joanna, my name is Castiel Novak. I’m here with Dean,” Cas said, nodding at Dean to speak.

“Hiya, Jo,” Dean greeted.

“Dean?” Jo asked. “Where are you?”

“He doesn’t know,” Cas said as he kept the phone to himself now, walking away. “I am prepared to exchange him in exchange for a short man with a punchable face and slicked chestnut hair by the name of Gabriel. Angiolstovy’s restaurant, eight o’clock. No, I will not extend in order to give you more time to insource agents, and the next call I better hear Gabriel’s voice alive and well within two hours.”

He hung up the phone and his employee gave him a thumbs up. Calls had to be short to protect the trace. He probably had a bit more time since he called Jo first, but Cas was smart. “They’re not going to agree to a secluded restaurant they cannot observe aerially.”

“They’re going to have to,” Castiel said. His cell phone beeped and he looked at it curiously. “My fixer is arriving.”

“What is this fixer?” Dean asked.

“He handles the messy stuff I can’t bring myself to do. He’s worked for my family for years. He’s gotten us out of a lot of messes in exchange for a hefty price tag,” Castiel explained. “Do you trust me?”

Dean sighed heavily. “I’m trying my best to. Why?”

“He’s not going to be happy I kept you alive.. He’s very liability-minded, and I don’t want to explain the soulmate thing, so I’m going to keep you gagged to make you look really hostage-y. Just please go along with it and act stressed, please,” Castiel said.

“God damnit, Cas. I hate you,” Dean replied with a fed up tone.

“I know you do, baby,” Cas replied as he approached with tape. He sealed Dean’s mouth securely and pressed a kiss on the other side of the plastic. Dean could feel the shape of Cas’s lips. It didn’t make him feel any better about the situation.

The door to the warehouse opened behind Dean. “How is my favorite client?” the man greeted as he entered. Something about the man’s voice seemed vaguely familiar to Dean.

“This isn’t an ice cream shop,” Castiel said. “I need you to help facilitate the exchange of a hostage.”

“Who are the parties?” the man asked. He stepped in front of Dean and both of their eyes widened. Zachary Adler, his superior from the FBI. “The FBI Agent is who you’re trading?”

“Yes, I am giving him back to the FBI for my brother,” Castiel replied.

“You never mentioned you were trading with the feds,” Zachary said. He glanced over at Dean. His face was supposed to be neutral, Dean assumed, but it wasn’t. He was tense. Was Zachary not here to rescue him?

“You’ve always insisted I give you as little details as possible,” Castiel replied.

“The United States FBI is a bit of an exception,” Zachary said. “I insist we take tis conversation elsewhere about how to proceed. Not in front of your guest.”

“Fine, follow,” Castiel said. Zachary left with Castiel, and he didn’t look back at Dean. What was going on here? This wasn’t the typical protocol for anything. Zachary never said he had an in on the Novak case. _Because he didn’t need Dean to know_. Cas said this man has been working for Castiel’s family for _years,_ and somehow Cas knew Dean was looking into him.

Zachary set him up. Cas said the fixer was in favor of Dean dying. Zachary wasn’t here to free Dean. His heart began to race. Zachary was a high up fed. He had access to so much information. Information that set him up ahead, information to bury. If he was a fixer, he was probably sabotaging other cases for _years_.

What was the case Castiel initially interrogated him about? It was a woman’s name. There was a very big case Zachary nailed that gained him an impressive promotion. As he was doing the math, it would have been right before Cas would have started his climb. It was so familiar, but it was a heavy Russian name. Everyone in the office talked about it for weeks.

The Miltoynov case…

_“What do you know about Anastasia Miltoynov?”_

Anastasia Miltoynov was Cas’s sister. He was looking for her children. Zachary Adler is the one who brought down Anastasia Miltoynov, and if Cas was working with him, Cas had no idea.

_Fuck fuck fuck_. Zachary was now caught. He saw Dean. Dean saw him. _Why the fuck did you have to tie me up, Cas?_ What were Zachary’s options out of this? Get Dean killed. Get Cas killed. Get them both killed.

Right now, Castiel was planning a complete choreography of the exchange. He would be giving every last detail right to Zachariah. Everything from entry to escape route. There would be no way Castiel would be getting out.

He needed to warn Cas. He began to wiggle in the ropes. Since he was conscious this time, he was able to bulk himself up a certain way to allow slack. But what if he made a noise? Zachary could step out and shoot him under the guise of stopping the hostage escape. Cas wasn’t forthcoming about their relationship.

Staying put was likely the safest option. He hadn’t heard a gunshot or signs of struggle, but he couldn’t see where Castiel was. Would Zachary cut his losses now or get another big win at the exchange? Zachary wouldn’t let Dean be left alive, but he was surrounded by Cas’s guards here. That was his only saving grace right now. _The guards_.

Dean began to grunt at one and grab his attention. He began to gesture for the guard to get closer. The guard shook his head and Dean persisted. He wasn’t a bad guest. Cas said hey should give him whatever he wanted and he hadn’t abused that privilege, so why were they being asshats now?

The guard finally caved and approached and removed the tape from his mouth. “What do you want?”

“You need to get a message to Castiel, not in front of that man, Zachary. That guy is an FBI Agent. He’s my superior. He’s the one that got promoted when Anastasia got taken down,” Dean replied. “He recognized me. Castiel isn’t safe.”

“You’re such a pain,” the guard said as he reapplied the tape, causing Dean to yell under the seal. The guard lifted the blunt end of his gun and then struck Dean with it.

Dean woke up in the back of a car, still with duct tape on his mouth and his hands tied behind his back. He looked over to see Castiel looking at him softly.

“Glad you are awake, love,” Castiel said. “I’m sorry my guard hurt you.” He looked over at the driver, and couldn’t tell if it was Cas’s or Zachary’s.

Dean tried to muffle toe words “take the tape off” but Castiel just shook his head.

“You are a hostage, Dean. Must I remind you?” Castiel asked.

Dean shut his eyes in frustration. Being unconscious took out so much of his time. They were driving into a death trap right now. He continued to try to talk while giving Cas pleading eyes.

“Is there a problem back there, Mr. Novak?” the driver asked in a way that definitely made Dean lean towards this was Zachary’s guy. “Mr. Adlich said the hostage may get unruly.”

That must have been his alias. Dean gave Castiel a look of fear in his eyes and shot his eyes quickly to the door handle and made a brief tilt of his head. Castiel looked at him with confusion.

“Everything is fine. I can handle him,” Castiel said. He brought his hand up discretely began to sign ASL. Thank you, Eileen for making him learn.

“Are we in danger?” Castiel asked.

Dean nodded subtly, and Cas nodded in response. “Get over here, you insolent little shit!” Castiel began to grab and hit Dean as a rouse, closing their distance. Once Cas had a good hold on him, Cas opened the door and pulled them both out of the moving car. They hit the ground with a fast force, and Dean wasn’t really in a position to guard himself or his head from the fall as he rolled.

Dean heard the car come to a screech and he heard a door open. Gunshots were fired, but Dean wasn’t in a position to see. The next thing he knew, two hands were flipping him over, and he was so relieved to see Cas standing over him. A little banged up and dirty, but it was him.

He ripped the tape off Dean’s mouth, which stung a lot, but not as much as violently being thrown out of a moving car. “You better have a _really_ good reason I just launched us from a moving vehicle and shot someone,” Cas said with a n out of breath gasp.

“I need confirmation. Is Zachary the one who tipped you off about my case on you?” Dean asked.

“Zacha… _ry_? I know him by Zachariah, but yes. I don’t like where this is going,” Cas said.

“He’s a supervisor of mine at the FBI. He got a big promotion a few years ago when he got the credit for the tips that lead to…Anastasia’s operation getting stopped.”

Cas just stood over Dean for a few moments processing the information before turning his head away from Dean’s face to yell at the top of his lungs. “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! FUCK!”

“I think that’s why he was so adamant about me being killed, you not being left with me,” Dean said. Castiel helped Dean get off the ground and he worked on unfastening Dean’s binds for the first time in hours. He let out a small moan as he stretched and moved his arms in front of him, rotating his shoulders for relief. “Where is Zachary now?”

“He had to excuse himself ahead, which is why he left one of his people behind I assume,” Cas said.

“He needed time to relay your escape plans to the FBI. You weren’t walking out of there alive, and neither was I,” Dean said.

Castiel took more deep breaths to calm his anger, and to recuperate from his injuries. “Gabriel-”

“-should be fine for now. Zachary can’t do anything to him,” Dean reassured, cupping Castiel’s face. It wasn’t the best moment, but it was the best moment he had all day. He had spent all day with his hands bounds, unable to touch his…whatever Cas was to him.

Castiel looked at Dean with some relief, and an unspoken apology. He took Dean’s hands off his face and kissed them tenderly. “I’m sorry I was an ass today. If I had trusted you more, we would have avoided this.”

“You need to fire the guard that hit me. I told him to warn you, got knocked out instead,” Dean said.

“Consider him dead,” Castiel said.

“No,” Dean contested. “No.”

“I was kidding…..mostly,” Castiel said Dean gave him a suspicious look. “Fine, I was serious, but I can do better…at some point. I get the feeling we’re about to fight our way through shit now, though.”

“What are you suggesting?” Dean asked.

Castiel gave Dean a flirtatious smirk. “We’re going to run away together, Dean.”


	8. Chapter Eight

Castiel and Dean took off in Zachariah’s driver’s car given that the man was no longer needing to escort them into a trap. They only had a few minutes before the FBI and Zachariah realized they were not coming. There was no doubt Zachariah had continencies, but Castiel wasn’t wanting to find out what they were.

They made sure the car was free of all mobile devices, but who knew what else the car had? They needed a new one _stat_.

They made their way to a movie plex that had a large and full parking lot. They pulled in and made their way to the back of the lot where they were less likely to be seen. Castiel found an early 2000’s car that wouldn’t have the GPS tracking.

Castiel broke the glass with the butt of the gun and reached in to unlock it for the both of them. Once they were in, Castiel made his way to the wires for the ignition system so he could hotwire the car.

“I hope you don’t think less of me for knowing how to hotwire a car,” Castiel said.

“I’d think less of you if you _didn’t_ ,” Dean said. “What makes you think I don’t know myself?”

The car revved and started and Castiel gave Dean a smug look. “For work or for pleasure?”

Dean gave him a cock smirk as he leaned into his intimate space. “Pleasure,” he purred tingling the skin on Castiel’s neck. Castiel bit his lip and pushed Dean away gently.

“We’re not going to have an efficient escape if you tempt me to give you road head instead,” Castiel warned, earning a disappointing groan from Dean.

They made their way through the country, as much as they could anyways, Russia was extremely large. Distance was their biggest asset right now, and they needed as much of it as possible.

Their driving was silent, mostly. It had been a long day for them both. If Dean hadn’t woken up in time, they both could have been dead men. Despite everything he did to Dean, Dean gave up a potential chance at returning home just to save him.

If Castiel wasn’t focused on his driving, he would maybe succumb to what that meant for them.

They stopped at a Gas Station and Dean pointed to the phone booth that was located on the property.

“Here’s the plan,” Dean said. “I’m going to call my boss, Bobby. There is no way in hell that man was a part of this, and I know his ass is still in DC, so that means away from Zachary’s influence and monitoring.” Castiel listened carefully and noticed Dean was getting uncomfortable. The next part was the hard part. “We have two options as to how we can proceed. The first option is I arrange a pickup for myself, and you flee to wherever you need to be.”

“An option I don’t want,” Castiel said flatly, looking at Dean. “I am not going to be half the world away from you.”

Dean sighed in frustration at his insistence. “The only other option is you getting arrested when I get picked up.”

“And I can testify against Zachariah and half of the gangs in Russia if it means I get visiting privileges from you,” Castiel said.

“That’s not a life I want for you,” Dean said.

“And a life without you isn’t one I want. They already have Gabriel, so I can maybe share a prison cell with him if you bargain right,” Castiel replied.

Dean let out a nervous chuckle. “You’re supposed to be the bad guy, you’re not supposed to be this altruistic or self-sacrificing.”

Cas let out a soft chuckle. “Do you still think I’m the bad guy you imagined when you were looking into me?”

Dean shook his head softly. “Of course not.” He leaned forward to cup Castiel’s face tenderly before putting their mouths together. It was their first real kiss. It wasn’t Dean’s head, or his neck, or his hands, and it wasn’t on the other side of duct tape. This was all Dean.

He opened his mouth to let more of Dean in, which he took appreciatively. Dean leaned away and Castiel followed him for just a moment before they broke off. Dean was giving him a warm look, and a smile that made Castiel feel so soft and vulnerable, like he was smiling at the version of himself he had long since buried.

“I think that I believe you’re my soulmate now,” Dean said. “That was a pretty nice kiss.”

“Then why’d you stop?” Castiel asked.

Dean gave Cas a smirk and sat up a bit before staring right into his eyes. ““We’re not going to have an efficient escape if you tempt me to give you road head instead,” he mocked in a terrible Russian accent.

Castiel laughed heartily at Dean’s ridiculousness, and his lungs felt good about it. He hasn’t had laughter in his life in years and now they were coming from this gorgeous green-eyed man.

“I need to make that call, now,” Dean said. Castiel nodded and he watched as the man left the car and sauntered over to the payphone. Castiel took a deep breath to ease his nerves. He wasn’t watching Dean and wasn’t listening in. He was surrendering power for the first time in years, and it was scary, potentially foolish. But trusting Dean felt right. He felt something inside that reassured him, and made him feel at ease.

He used to have this feeling with his sister. In a family full of hugs and killers, he never felt like he belonged. Anastasia was the best thing about his childhood, and what he was feeling now was similar with Dean; a little different, but it was a part of his heart he thought was out of order forever.

Dean came over a few minutes later with a bittersweet expression. He looked a little weak and vulnerable, which Castiel didn’t know how to interpret. “What’s the verdict?”

“I told Bobby that I figured out Zachary was the one who set me up because he was here in Russia prior to the team and he was one of the only people who knew details on my case. I said you and Gabriel will both be willing to testify against Zachary about my case and the cases he’s fixed for you in exchange for house arrest in the US with visitation rights,” Dean said.

Castiel’s eyes widened. “A house!? They’re not going to go for that.”

“Yeah, Bobby called me an ‘idjit’ but I said I’m not backing down. You’re bringing forth a traitor who leaked US data and committed treason. That is worth a pretty penny. I told him I will find a way to reach him tomorrow to see what he’s arranged and not to look for me until then.”

Castiel just stared at Dean with awe and shock before letting out a chuckle. “I don’t deserve that, Dean. I have done so many terrible things, I deserve-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Cas,” Dean interrupted. “You can atone all your life if you need to, but we deserve _each other_. If he doesn’t go for it, he doesn’t go for it, but _damnnit_ \- I’m going to try to have you if I can.”

Tears were building up in Castiel’s eyes. Dean was so passionately adamant about them staying together when he shouldn’t be. He had held him hostage. “You should hate me after everything I’ve done to you. You should hate me like I do.”

Dean looked at him with a pained expression and reached out to stroke Castiel’s face, which made him wince. “We’re soulmates, Cas. And sure, we have to do a bit of dating and getting to know each other, but I know I’m looking forward to it and I know I’m going to like what I’m going to see.”

He opened his eyes to look at Dean, who was still looking at him with warmth and kindness. He felt unworthy of his praise. Maybe that was why Dean was his soulmate, to bring him back to the Castiel he once was; to prove that Castiel was worth a second chance.

“I feel like I’m getting the better result in this deal, Dean,” Castiel said. “I don’t know what I have to offer you.”

Dean looked sort of hesitant for a moment, and Castiel was curious. What could Castiel do to improve his life? “Everyone’s missing something, Cas,” Dean explained. “My life is busy, and I only live for my kids. Maybe you’re my reward. Maybe we’ll have a moment where everything will just click and it’ll all make sense. Maybe that’s soon, maybe that’s a year from now, maybe it’s when we’re gray and old. I don’t think we need to solve it right now. I know you overthink and over plan, but let’s just let ourselves have this one thing.”

Castiel huffed. “That doesn’t inspire confidence, Dean. I’ll forever be underserving of you.”

Dean looked at him and gave him a small smirk. “At least we can agree on the ‘forever’ part.”

Castiel’s smile broke through his morose and anxious demeanor. He turned away from Dean, and back the steering wheel. He wasn’t sure if he’d get used to feeling this vulnerable. He felt Dean’s hand grip his thigh in a comforting way.

He braced himself to turn to Dean, who was just looking at him empathetically. It was caring and supportive, and something about it made Castiel feel at ease. Castiel nodded as a thanks and started the car again. They could get a few more hours of distance before they needed to stop somewhere for the night, although it was getting dark.

They drove through the night until Castiel found a motel for them to crash at. Castiel had numerous untraceable credit cards that shouldn’t be flagged by the FBI. Dean had confirmed they didn’t know anything about his financial accounts.

Castiel paid for two separate rooms. He didn’t need judgement from the clerk or him calling the authorities on them. The clerk gave them the keys and they made their way down the hallway.

Their rooms were side by side and Castiel handed Dean’s room key over to him. Dean shook his head and gently pushed down on Castiel’s offering arm. “You’re not trying to get rid of me are you?”

“This isn’t America, Dean,” Castiel said. “Besides, I don’t have any expectations from you.”

“I don’t have any expectations either,” he said cockily. “So open the door, Cas.”

Castiel sighed and opened the door to what was now their joined room and entered with Dean walking right behind him. There was uncertainty in the air as the door close and Castiel turned to look at Dean.

Dean looked at Castiel and took a step closer to him and cupped his face. “You don’t need to be so reserved, Cas,” Dean said. “I _want_ you.”

He leaned forward and kissed Castiel tenderly. Castiel immediately melted in to the kiss and reciprocated. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s back and held him tight as Dean kissed him.

Castiel felt absolutely euphoric. He felt a bliss running through him that made him weak in the knees, and although his eyes were closed, he felt like he saw stars in his own imagination. This is everything the soulmate moment should have been.

Dean’s hands roamed to start unbuttoning Castiel’s shirt and he just soaked in the wild, excited look on Dean’s face. Dean wanted Castiel. And as much as Castiel’s insecurities wanted to chalk it up to Dean being horny and wanting his body, he knew that wasn’t really the case. Dean wanted him for who he was.

Dean had gotten Castiel’s shirt off and took a moment to take it all in. He had already seen Dean in undress, but Dean hadn’t. His eyes were looking over his tattooed torso. It was more color and design than original flesh, but Dean wasn’t turned off by that. Dean let his fingertips roam the tracing of the designs and feel Castiel in his palms.

“Everyone in my family had these,” Castiel said softly. “I didn’t get any until they passed away. I thought it would motivate me or have me be like them and leave the writer life behind. Now I just kind of hate what I see.”

Dean brought his eyes to Castiel’s. There was no pity or sadness in his eyes; only understanding; only presence. “Do you want me to like them or hate them?”

Castiel raised his eyebrow at Dean. “I don’t want my opinion to influence yours, _ever_. Do you like them or not?”

“I like _you_ ,” Dean replied. “And they are a part of you, and I like that you’re showing me this part of you.”

“I have another part of me I’d like to show you,” Castiel said cockily. Dean smirked and leaned in to kiss Castiel.

It was a long and deep kiss. The heat and passion had dissipated into something more sincere and vulnerable now, and Castiel wasn’t sure what to think about it.

Dean removed his lips and stared deep into Castiel’s eyes. Castiel just focused on how the light refracted in the emerald eyes in front of his. “You’re deflecting,” Dean said softly. He had picked up on the change in the air too it seemed.

“I haven’t had any conversation like this in so many years,” Castiel said. “It’s difficult.”

Dean removed his own shirt before he responded. He wasn’t rushed or fast, and he wasn’t giving Castiel any seductive looks as he did it. He just held his eye contact to let Castiel know he was _here_. Once his shirt was on the floor, he wrapped his arms around Castiel, holding their shirtless bodies together. “But it’s _real_ ,” Dean said as he leaned forward to kiss him softly.

Their mouths just softly moved against each others, tenderly trading soft kisses for several moments, neither of them needing to escalate the moment into something more intense.

As they kissed, their hands romanced slowly on each other’s. They were exploring cautiously, and just soaking in the moment and tactile sensations the other provided. Dean’s back muscles and his biceps were enthralling, and Castiel considered himself a very lucky man.

Dean’s fingers ran over some cuts and bruises from their jump out of the car. They were both pretty banged and bruised up. The front desk worker was probably horrified at the sight. Dean removed himself from Castiel’s lips and smiled at him.

“Want to go get cleaned up?” Dean asked. The flirtation was small, but exciting. Dean walked towards the bathroom backwards, keeping his eyes fixed on Castiel until he needed to heck where he was going.

Castiel followed nervously, unsure of whether to dress out here or in there. He kicked off his shoes in the room but then headed to Dean. He heard the water running before he even entered. Dean was still in his pants, and luckily Cas wasn’t the odd one out.

He was leaning in to the tub, feeling the water temperature first before getting back up and stepping to Castiel. His hands went down to Cas’s belt buckle and his hands began to unfasten the belt. Cas felt his cock harden. He wasn’t sure how much would be done here since, but he was excited to just be fully naked with clean.

The belt was pulled out from Castiel’s waist and his trousers were unbuttoned and unzipped by Dean’s hands before his thumbs hooked underneath the trousers _and_ briefs and Dean pushed them down.

Cas’s hard cock was freed and it bounced as it sprung, catching Dean’s eager attention. “Damn” he said happily.

“You like it?” Castiel asked proudly.

Dean grinned as Castiel stepped out of his trousers. “It’s a part of you,” Dean said coyly, causing Castiel to laugh because of course he would ruin his one good line like that. Cas leaned forward to rest his head against Dean as he returned the favor and worked to remove Dean’s pants.

Dean was also very impressive in the front and the back. It was a shame he’d have to go to prison and he wouldn’t get a lifetime of fucking Dean’s ass and swallowing Dean’s dick. Dean probably didn’t read Castiel’s somber thoughts because he took him by the hand and guided him into the shower.

He pulled the faucet tab and the water began to cascade onto them. Dean grabbed the washcloth and poured some liquid soap into it before he moved to rub the cloth gently over Castiel’s torso.

He let himself be held by Dean’s free hand as his chest was cleaned by the American. It was tender and intimate, and Castiel was enjoying it.

Dean turned him around and felt the cloth on his shoulders and back. He also felt Dean lean in to leave kisses on his shoulder blades. Dean felt nice pressed against his back. He felt comforted, and supported.

They swapped places and it was Castiel’s turn to clean Dean. He loved being face to face with the gorgeous man as he cleaned his abs. Castiel was friskier than Dean was though. He let the cloth go down to Dean’s hard cock and he gave it a pull while it was wrapped in the cloth.

Dean let out a small moan and Cas leaned in for a kiss while he gave Dean another few playful strokes. He didn’t want to go all the way in the shower, but he wanted to keep Dean intrigued.

He rotated Dean and began to wash the man’s back. Castiel pressed his cock against Dean’s cleft, causing the man to moan again. God, that encouraged Castiel. He wanted to bury himself into Dean right now, but there was no lube.

He moved his mouth to the back of Dean’s neck and mouthed at it hard. He was building up passion and need, and he no longer wanted to be sweet and delicate. He dropped the cloth to the ground and just let his hands roam Dean. They went around Dean’s sides to grasp his pecs and Castiel pressed against Dean more, to which he responded by pushing back against Cas in turn.

“I want to be inside you so bad, Dean Winchester,” Castiel uttered. “I want to wreck you like you wreck me.”

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean choked out. “I want your cock in me too.”

Castiel continued to kiss and suck Dean’s back muscles as he grabbed the soap again and poured some on his fingers. There was a certain part of Dean that needed cleaning…

He slid his soapy fingers into Dean’s crack which made the man shudder as they passed over the ring made of muscle. Castiel continued to rub his cock against the side of Dean’s ass as he lathered the space between Dean’s cheeks. His finger began o press in gently, just more and more, as much as it could go since this wasn’t proper lube.

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean muttered. “How are you going to tease me like this without proving me what I need?”

Castiel chuckled in response. “Very easily, Dean. I’m a _very_ good torturer, you know.”

“Dick,” he choked out as his hole continued to be played with. Cas began to stroke himself as he continued to probe Dean’s hole. He was so hard, and he wanted to feel Dean around his cock.

“I think we’re clean now,” Castiel said in a low, sultry tone.

“Yeah we fucking are,” Dean said as he quickly shut the water off. Castiel grabbed the towels and they dried themselves off as fast as they could. Castiel reached into the pants pockets of his discarded pants and fished around for his wallet.

Once he had it, he opened it up and his fingers dug in until they pulled out two square aluminum packets. He held them up so Dean could see and the man’s eyes got wide.

“Someone was confident in himself,” Dean said cockily. “You were planning on getting me to put out all along?”

“No, not exactly. I was just really hopeful,” Castiel said honestly. “I never would have thought you’d trust me enough for….”

Dean took the condom out of Cas’s hands and silenced him with his mouth. “What’s in the past is in the past, Cas,” Dean said after he broke their kiss off. “We’re in this together, now.”

Dean sunk to his knees, leaving kisses all along Castiel’s torso as he descended. Dean was eager. Once he was head-level with Castiel’s hard cock, Dean immediately opened wide to take Cas in.

Cas moaned in ecstasy. Dean’s mouth was everything he wanted it to be. He looked down and the green-eyed sex demon was looking right up at him with his pink cock-sucking lips wrapped around his shaft. It was so obscene, Castiel almost couldn’t handle it.

He couldn’t hold back. Maybe it was because he was used to fucking whores, or maybe the tension between them was so overpowered after days of marinating, but Cas wasn’t about to take this slow and sweet.

He began to rock his hips to fuck himself into Dean’s mouth. If Dean’s vocals were any indicator, Cas would say Dean was enjoying this part as well. The slurping sounds, the subtle gags (Dean was a champ, but his cock was an impressive challenge for any) all motivated Castiel. He wanted more and more of Dean and he wouldn’t be satisfied until they were fully joined.

He removed himself completely, and looked at the happy flushed face below him. Dean was gasping with a slightly more efforted labor, his lips and corners of his mouth glistened with his saliva and Castiel’s precum. Castiel squatted down and kissed him deeply, tasting his own sweetness on Dean’s lips.

He broke off the kiss and used a thumb to wipe away at least some of the mess from Dean’s gorgeous swollen lips. “Let’s take this to the bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said confidently, knowing damn well what that would do to him. Thy both got up off the floor and headed to the bed. Dean instinctively got on his fours and laid himself low, arching his ass up in the air for Castiel. Castiel was cursing the man under his breath. Who gave this evil FBI Agent the right to be a secret pornstar on the side?

He approached behind Dean and the sight was even better than the small glimpses he got when he had to bandage him up and when Dean tried to make his escape in the nude. He had an ample sized ass and it was beautifully toned. His pucker looked pristine and tight. Castiel was thoroughly looking forward to stretching it out.

He climbed on the bed behind Dean and roamed his hands appreciatively on the ass presented to him. “You’re so beautiful, Dean Winchester. I am so gratefully you’re allowing me to make love to you.”

Dean turned his head around and looked at him with an entertained intrigued. “Face-fucking me in the bathroom wasn’t exactly _love-making,_ Cas.”

Castiel let out a small chuckle. “You can’t blame me for getting carried away, can you? You do things to me, Dean.” He leaned forward and pressed his naked body against Dean’s as he leaned in for a kiss. The angle was challenging, but the sentiment and sensation was well worth it. His coke was pressed against Dean’s ass and he rocked into it gently as they kissed for a few moments.

He eventually pulled himself back to massage Dean’s gorgeous ass a bit more. He spread the cheeks apart to expose Dean’s center and he dipped his head inward to give it a generous lick with his tongue.

Dean let out another pornographic moan of approval. “Fuck yeah, Cas. Eat me. That feels so good.”

“I will spend the rest of my life making you feel good if I can. Anything to redeem myself to you,” Castiel said.

“Well, you’re off to a great start, _fuck!_ ” Castiel _loved_ this. He loved tasting his partners, he loved hearing them whimper and watching them writhe in his grasp. He loved a sexy piece of ass and he loved burying his face, his dick, or toys in them. He never was on the receiving end with his call boys, but he’d definitely like Dean to return the favor……someday. But tonight, he was only focused on handling Dean.

“You taste so good, Dean,” Castiel commented as he continued to tongue his way into Dean. “I love everything about your hole.”

“Mmmmmm,” Dean moaned. “I don’t know if I should feel flattered or degraded,” he replied teasingly. Castiel immediately wrapped his hands under Dean and flipped him around on his back and Castiel quickly climbed over his body.

“Flattered,” Castiel answered sternly before placing a fast peck on Dean’s lips. “Very.” Peck. “Very.” Peck. “Flattered.” The kiss following that final word was deeper, more passionate to convey the meaning. “I know I’m riled up, but never think for a moment that this connection is so superficial to me, Dean Winchester. I am sincerely sorry for the circumstances that brought us together, but you mean everything to me already.”

Dean cupped Castiel’s face tenderly as they gazed into each other’s eyes. “I feel the same way, Cas. I’m not going to let them take you from me. Now, put that fucking cock inside of me and show me what I have a lifetime of looking forward to.”

Castiel’s heart race, and he felt like he could almost growl at just how much Dean was activating a primal side of him. “You would have made an excellent crime boss. I’d take orders from you any day.”

“You’ll have your chance,” Dean replied cockily. “But I’m in the mood to bottom for a bad guy.”

Cas smirked as he sat up a bit to reach for the condom that had been set to the side. He opened it with his teeth and rolled it on his shaft. The second packet was lubricant, and he coated himself as generously as he could. The remainder on his fingers was used to open Dean up a little more. It was much easier this way than in the shower.

Dean smiled as Castiel’s digits sank into him. He licked his lips and played with his own nipples as Castiel massaged the walls inside him to loosen him up to take his cock easier. He was so tight, Castiel would need to restrain himself.

It being nice for Dean was the priority. As nice as it would feel for Castiel to just roughly use Dean how he wanted, he wasn’t going to hurt him. He’d never act selfishly at Dean’s expense, he’d never abuse Dean. There would hopefully be plenty of time for both of them to enjoy rough sex with each other once they got more comfortable with one another and knew each other’s limits, but as Castiel stated, he wanted to make love now.

He removed his fingers and rested the tip of his cock against Dean’s entrance. “Are you ready, Dean?”

Dean nodded gently. “Yes, Castiel. Let me feel you in me.”

Castiel gave a confirming nod and gently breached himself into Dean. Dean let out a gasp when Cas slipped through and he paused himself to make sure Dean was okay. Dean nodded for him to keep going and so he did; he sunk himself into Dean further slowly and steadily.

Dean let out a deep moan as Castiel slid inch and inch into Dean. He was so tight and hot around Castiel’s dick. Dean was rubbing Castiel’s chest as Castiel filled him up. His breathing was strained, but he was taking it rather well.

“Everything okay, Dean?” Castiel asked with genuine concern.

“You’re so fucking huge and it’s been awhile, but god, it feels so nice to have you inside me,” Dean replied. “Keep going.”

Castiel obliged and continued to move in and out of Dean at a steady pace. Castiel would usually focus on his own stimulation and how hard he could fuck, but now he was focusing on Dean’s face. He was watching every wrinkle, every twitch in his smile, the glistening in his eyes; he listened to the beautiful melody of Dean’s moans and whimpers as he thrust himself inside Dean and pushed and pulled his cock along Dean’s walls.

Dean was definitely enjoying himself. He was closing his eyes, focusing his senses onto his tactile ones so he could feel their fucking more astutely; and whenever Dean _did_ open his eyes to Castiel, it was like they were seeing each other for the first time after being separated. His smile would widen and they’d look so deep into each other’s eyes that Castiel felt himself fall in love over and over again every time they did it.

Dean Winchester was beautiful inside and out. Castiel didn’t think anyone as pure as Dean was left on the planet. His outlook on life was negative and full of spite, but something about meeting Dean was finally giving him optimism. He hoped they could find away to be together.

After several minutes, Dean cupped Castiel’s face. “I think you need a rest, babe. Let me take care of you.”

_Fuck_. How could Dean talk so sweetly about something so sexual? And how did it make him feel so loved? He removed himself from Dean, causing the man to make a small gasp once Castiel fully exited him, and he wrapped an arm underneath Dean to slowly roll themselves over.

Dean ran his hands along Castiel’s torso as they kissed each other for a few moments before it was time for Dean to assume the position. He straddled Castiel’s lap and reached behind him before he paused. “We were already looking at each other, do you want me to do this reverse cowboy?”

“Absolutely not,” Castiel replied firmly. “This is our first time. Possibly our last. When I’m old and gray it’ll be your face and eyes that I want to remember.”

Dean smiled fondly at Castiel as he went back to reaching for Castiel’s cock to slide it into his hole. Dean made another pornographic face, and Castiel wasn’t sure how long he’d last. “I definitely want to give you as many memories as possible, Cas.”

He began to swirl his hips on Castiel’s cock and forced a moan out of him. He was always more of a silent grunter, but there was no reason to be s reserved with Dean. He should let himself enjoy this moment together. He watched as his lover stared down at him with those verdant irises as his dick was being stirred inside of Dean’s tight body.

Deans witched up the technique and began to bounce with his shins, sitting up and down and using the momentum of the mattress in his favor. His ass was gently slapping against Castiel’s thighs and everything coming together felt phenomenal.

His new soulmate was a freaking sex god. He was in awe of the prowess this American spy had. His skills definitely superseded all of the ‘professionals’ he had been hiring these years.

“You must have been very popular at the training academy,” Castiel complimented.

Dean gave him a seductive smirk. “Would you like it if I was? Do you want to be the one that turns me into a housewife or do you want me to tell you that I’m inexperienced and you get to have me all to yourself?”

Castiel quickly sat up and wrapped his arms around Dean and gave him a possessive look. “I’m already going to have you all to myself. I don’t care how many men or women have touched you before, nobody’s touching you again,” he growled.

That got a pleased look from Dean who continued to ride Cas to the best of his ability now that they were both upright. Castiel moved his hands to Dean’s ass to ‘help with the lifting’. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas for leverage as well. It was a few more moments of deep kisses, hot breaths on each other’s necks, and friction against one another for them both to start spraying.

Dean’s cock sprayed on both of their combined chests given the little room between each other and Castiel was unloading into the condom, still inside of Dean. They were kissing as they came, moaning into each other’s mouths while trying to keep their lips together the best they could.

They continued to kiss as they mellowed down from their highs. Cas laid them both down and he removed himself from Dean, shucking the condom away in the trash before crawling under the covers with Dean and pulling him into his arms.

“That was phenomenal,” Dean complimented. “I hope we don’t have to do any running tomorrow. I’m getting caught, for sure. I may never walk right again.”

“Just imagine once you’re used to my cock and we can start doing it rough,” Castiel said dominantly.

Dean raised an eyebrow and smiled with excitement. “If you dish it, I hope you can take it.”

“Oh, I’ll be more than fair, Dean,” Castiel said. “We have our whole lives together, and I told you I’ll do whatever it takes to make this up to you. I can show you how much of a _good boy_ I can be.”

He leaned in and kissed Dean as the man chuckled onto Castiel’s mouth. They smiled at each other fondly with soft smiles. “Say that first part back to me.”

“What part?” Castiel asked.

“Say that we have our whole lives together,” he replied vulnerably. His emerald eyes were worried. They were off their euphoria and the reality was setting in again. Castiel was a criminal who needed to be taken in if Dean were to get back home.

“We have our whole lives together,” Castiel repeated as confidently as he could. Dean leaned in and gave him another kiss. This one was sturdy, he was putting a lot of strength into it, as if to apply the statement into will. Castiel really hoped he didn’t just inadvertently tell a lie. A future with Dean is everything he wanted.

They fell asleep with Dean in Castiel’s arms, his back against Castiel’s torso. The sunlight crept in and lulled them from their slumber. His cock was hard against Dean’s ass and he desperately wanted a round two, but they had things to do, and that was his only condom.

Castiel kissed Dean’s shoulder blades softly, causing Dean to stir and let out a small groan.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Castiel said softly.

“It’s -kay,” he mumbled softly. “Maybe I can have a wake up blowjob?”

Castiel let out an amused chuckle. He technically hadn’t returned the fellatio last night, although he did eat Dean out, but it wasn’t the same. Dean was so sleepy right now. If he wasn’t stimulated, he would surely fall right back asleep.

“Anything for you, Dean,” Castiel said as he rolled Dean over on his back and gave him a kiss to start. He left kisses down Dean, making sure to lick up a little bit of the dried mess on Dean’s stomach from last night, which he thought might spark Dean awake a smidge before he got down to Dean’s dick.

Dean’s cock was also gorgeous and impressive. It had been a while since he sucked someone off because he didn’t do this for his phone ordered dates, but he was excited to give one to Dean.

“Fuck,” Dean muttered as Cas took him in his mouth. He should definitely be waking up now. Castiel continued to work his mouth up and down Dean’s cock, enjoying the little sounds Dean was making. It wasn’t too long before Dean was finishing in Castiel’s hand.

“I’m definitely awake now,” Dean said passionately as Castiel crawled back up to Dean and gave him a good morning kiss.

“I wish I could wake up to you like this every morning,” Castiel tenderly confessed as he ran his hand gently along Dean’s torso.

“I do too,” Dean said. “We’ll find a way to make it work, okay, Cas?”

Castiel tried to force a smile. He didn’t want to give any false promises or have unrealistic expectations. “Well do the best we can.”

Dean cracked a half-smile as well, fully understanding their situation. It would be challenging, but not unheard of.

“Should we call them?” Castiel asked.

“It’s midnight in DC. We have time. Let’s put more distance between us and Zachary and maybe buy some clean clothing,” Dean said. “We can have an actual breakfast date, and lunch date, and maybe another night together. What do you say?”

Castiel smiled and kissed Dean again deeply. “I’ll take every moment I have with you.”

The two of them showered together again, although it was less sexually charged than the previous night. They got back on the road and bought clothing at a small store that have few eyes and would be grateful for Castiel’s generous tip in exchange for their silence.

They had a nice meal together, their first one, but it was hard to talk about typical date stuff, like their future, so they talked about their pasts. Dean told Cas about his teenage years, helping raise his brother, and he talked about his children.

Castiel told Dean about Anastasia and how she had cared for him. She had been kind and accepting of who he was, and while none of his other siblings treated him poorly for being gay, there was always a distance between him and the others that didn’t exist with her.

Castiel wished he could have gotten a normal 20’s life with Dean. Neither of them had it easy, and they both deserved better than what they had. Castiel just wished they had more time together.

Later that afternoon, Dean made a phone call to Bobby. Zachary was still loose in the wind, but Jo was safe and so was Gabriel. Bobby confirmed that Castiel and Gabriel could get house arrest sentences provided their full cooperation succeeds in enough valid intel to take down some other high profile FBI targets and the insight into Zachary’s treason is substantial. That was at least a start.

The pickup coordinates and time were provided to them. They wouldn’t be able to extract them until the next morning, so they had one more night together at least.

Dean was given permission to contact Sam, although Jo had already been authorized to inform Sam that contact with Dean was made the other day and he was alive and well.

His call with Sam was emotional, but happy. It was a weekend, so the kids weren’t at school. He cried when he got to hear his children’s voice. Castiel’s heart sunk so deep into his body that he had caused this. He almost threw up from the pain and guilt, but he came to his own type of epiphany.

He was _done_. He no longer had to do those gut-wrenching things. He no longer needed to participate in the life of crime he didn’t want to partake in. He could maybe start writing again, if he could ever connect to his old skills again.

But the though intrigued him. He could have a normal-ish life again, and write a book that he loved and would serve as more as a painful anchor to what he had lost. It could be displayed proudly on a bookcase instead of surrounded by his guns so that every time he went on a mission he could hurt himself into a motivational rage. His writing could be a source of love again instead of hatred.

Maybe he’d write romance, and he could fantasize about one of many lives he could have shared with Dean in another life. Maybe he’d write about Dean’s children or Anastasia’s children. The options were endless, and he was happy because this was the first time in a long time he even felt like he had options.

Dean ran out of time in the phone booth and he walked back to Castiel with bittersweet tears and an exhausted expression. Castiel was slightly worried that connecting with his brother and his kids again would reinforce the idea that Castiel was the one that took him away from them.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Castiel said. “I know I’ve said it a lot, but-”

“Cas,” Dean interrupted. “This is at least seventy-five percent Zachary’s fault, at least in my mind, and the part that _is_ your fault, we have been working through. The phone call didn’t change anything I didn’t already know when I let you inside of me. We will be fine, Cas.”

Castiel winced from the affirmation he didn’t deserve and Dean brought him in for a comforting embrace, when it should have been the other way around.

“I should be cheering you up,” Castiel said when they broke apart. “How were they?”

“Sam is completely shaken, since he knew the truth. He was so worried. Lying to the kids was hard on him, and it was hard on them. It still will be, I don’t want them knowing about my job or the danger I was in, but we’ll all survive.”

Castiel continued to look and feel guilty and Dean put his arm on Cas’s shoulder. “Stop that. You don’t have to be that guy anymore ever again.”

Castiel nodded and tried to compose himself. “I just hope I can do something to make everything worthwhile for you. I want to make amends for this, somehow, someway.”

“You will, someway,” Dean reassured. “You ready to hit the road again?”

Castiel nodded, and they made their way to a new motel for the night. They made love again, this time Dean was topping, and Castiel loved it. He didn’t want to miss out on it in case they didn’t get the opportunity again, but he didn’t tell it to Dean, but what he did tell Dean was that the last two nights were the best ones of his lives.

They met up at the rendezvous point and a few cars arrived with half a dozen FBI Agents. Dean had advised that although he negotiated as nice treatment as he could, he’d still be treated a bit like a criminal, so Castiel was prepared to not receive a warm greeting on his end.

Guns were pointed at him, ready to do anything if he acted in a bad manner. A blonde female agent went straight to Dean and hugged him as an agent approached him to cuff him.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Jo said.

“I’ve missed you, Jo,” Dean replied as he embraced her tightly.

They let go and she turned to view Castiel, and her expression was much less warm to him. “It’s nice to meet you, Jo,” Castiel greeted. “I am aware that is one-way, but from the little information Dean told me, they were all good things, and I can tell he cares for you.”

“So what am I missing that resulted in you keeping Dean alive, mostly unmaimed, and you two both working together?” Jo asked.

Castiel looked over at Dean and Dean shook his head. He couldn’t compromise the deal for Castiel or any potential case against Zachary by exposing a potential bias.

“All I wanted was to find my family’s killer,” Castiel replied. “I’ll be more than transparent about my motives and methods during my official questioning as part of my deal.”

Jo gave them a suspicious look, and she was probably on track to guessing the full story if it wasn’t so farfetched. They got into the car which transported them to a plane. Dean insisted on not being split up from Castiel, which further raised Jo’s suspicion, but she complied.

“I brought you a picture of your kids,” Jo said. “It was the safest way for you to see them again.” She took a photograph out of her pocket and handed it over to Dean. He flipped it over to look at the picture and his smile grew wide. Castiel loved seeing Dean smile like that.

“Thank you, Jo,” Dean said softly. “God I miss them so much.” He turned to Cas and gestured the photograph as an offering.

“You want to show your kidnapper your children?” Jo asked. She had a fair point.

“Jo, relax,” Dean said. “I’ll explain later.” He turned back to Cas who nodded, but his hands were still cuffed behind his back. Castiel leaned in and Dean held it over to him.

The kids were adorable, and they looked so happy, but as soon as Castiel saw the both of them, he felt something within his chest. They didn’t look like Dean at all.

“These are your biological children?” Castiel asked.

Dean chuckled. “No, they’re adopted, but I don’t love them any less. They’ve been in my life for about four years or so ago.”

Castiel continued to stare at the photo with awe. “What is their nationality?”

Dean just stared at Castiel with slight confusion. “I wasn’t given much information; all I know is they’re European…”

Castiel’s breath hitched as he continued to stare at the photograph. “They have Anastasia’s eyes,” he said. “Did you give them their names?”

“No, they were already called Jack and Claire when I adopted them,” Dean said softly.

“Jok and Klar-ina,” Castiel repeated, emphasizing the syllables and their likeness. “Those were her children.”

Dean just stared at Castiel with a dumbfounded expression. “You’re telling me you think I coincidentally adopted your sister’s children?”

“We’re already soulmates,” Castiel replied. “Maybe this is why.”

“I’m sorry, you’re _WHAT_!?” Jo exclaimed.

“One minute, Jo,” Dean said, “Cas, are you-”

“You don’t need to worry, Dean,” Castiel assured. “I would never do anything to take your kids away from you or harm you further. All I’ve ever wanted to know is that they were safe and loved, and now I do.” Castiel let out a small laugh and a few tears. “Zachary, Jok, Klarina, everything is resolved.”

Castiel just smiled and let out a sigh of relief. Every bit of tension he felt gather in the past five years since the incident was finally released. His soulmate was taking care of his niece and nephew, and that was all he needed. He wasn’t sure how his relationship with Dean would work, or what the visitation circumstances would be, but he wouldn’t want to risk Dean’s trust. He wouldn’t ask to see the kids or do anything to imply he had an ulterior motive, because he didn’t. He could finally let go of the past and enjoy the rest of his life in peace.

“Can we go back to the soulmate thing?” Jo asked.


	9. Epilogue

A DNA test confirmed that Castiel Novak was biologically related to Jack and Claire, and all of the pieces made sense; why they were soulmates, why they needed to find each other.

Castiel and Gabriel were permitted to share one small two bedroom apartment under diligent watch of the FBI. They both had ankle monitors, which was fitting.

Castiel gave testimony about his relationship with Zachary Adler aka Zachariah. The FBI got multiple contents from Castiel’s loft shortly after Dean and he made their escape from Zachariah’s car. Some of the records Castiel kept over the years supported his testimony and his claims.

Dean was allotted certain visiting hours, and Jo and another guard always had to be in attendance in case Gabriel and Castiel tried to team up and take down Dean, although it was a non-issue.

Dean would always have to buy Jo thank you presents because not only did she have to accompany Dean on hours-long conjugal visits, but she had to put up Gabriel who liked to ‘reminisce’ on ‘their time together’.

However, after a year and a half of Castiel being a reliable source of information and his cooperation that lead to multiple arrests, Dean was allowed to transfer Castiel’s residence to his own.

It took multiple meetings discussing the risks of allowing Castiel to be around him or the children, but eventually Dean had to confide in Bobby that Castiel was technically his soulmate. After a very long and angry verbal assault from his chief, they started to put the pieces in place.

Castiel would still wear the ankle monitor. Panic buttons were installed in the house. Surveillance cameras were installed in the house. Dean and Castiel needed to do a daily check-in, and there were bi-weekly home inspections for a while. Over the past year and a half, Dean was subject to and would continue to be subjected to psych evaluations to ensure he wasn’t suffering from Stockholm syndrome, PTSD, or other mental distress.

But everything was worth it. Dean got to come home to Castiel every night, and he was great with the children, and they loved him. They were too young to know the truth about their biological family, and Dean wasn’t sure if they ever needed to know that Castiel held him hostage, but they would take things one step at a time.

Dean came home from work and made his way into the kitchen where Castiel was cooking.

“Welcome home, dorogoy,” Castiel said.

“I’m glad to be home,” Dean said as he set his bag on a chair and made his way to Castiel to kiss him deeply. “Have I ever said how much I love a housewife having dinner ready for me when I get home?”

“Too frequently,” he said with a scowl, kissing Dean tenderly.

“Kids upstairs?” Dean asked.

“Yes they are, they’re doing their homework, or at least they said they would,” Castiel said.

“So do you think I can thank you for dinner here in the kitchen?” he asked seductively.

Just as he asked, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and his face turned into a groan.

“We will never be that lucky,” Cas said with a chuckle.

“Dad! You’re home!” Claire exclaimed.

“I am!” Dean exclaimed as he lifted her up for a hug and held her. She would almost be too big for this, Jack definitely was.

Jack entered a few steps behind and leaned against the wall. “Hey, sport! How was school?”

“It was fine,” Jack said.

Dean sighed. He was growing to be an unsociable young boy, but at least Dean had more time for them with Castiel helping out. Plus, one of the benefits of having a former Russian Mob Boss move in with him is that he was no longer allowed to bring work home so he could give the kids his undivided attention…or Castiel later on.

“Is your homework done?” Castiel asked.

“Yes, Cas,” Jack replied.

“Good. Maybe we can play that videogame together after dinner if you want,” Castiel said.

A small smile crept on Jack’s face. “Really?”

“Of course!” Castiel replied. Dean smiled. He was relieved the kids were taking a liking to Castiel. He was worried how it would all be once Cas moved in, but Castiel had never given Dean any reason to doubt he was trying to let go of the past now.

After dinner, Cas and jack played videogames while Dean played with Claire. They tucked in the kids and made their way to their own bedroom.

Dean was kissing Castiel slowly and tenderly as they held each other in the dim mood lighting. Dean moved his hands to unbutton Castiel’s shirt. The fabric opened up and revealed the intricate artwork on Castiel’s chest. Dean eventually got the shirt to shed off and he roamed his hands on Castiel’s chest.

“You’re too good to me, Dean Winchester,” Castiel said.

“I think I’m the exact level of good that you deserve, and you shouldn’t feel guilty about that,” Dean replied as he leaned in and kissed Castiel’s neck.

Castiel went to grab Dean’s left hand with his right, and their fingers entwined together as Dean kissed his collar.

Castiel brought their hands up and stared at them intently. “I think our fingers fit too easily together like this.”

Dean removed his mouth to look at Castiel curiously. “And what do you mean by that?” His voice wasn’t fully offended, but he was rather intrigued.

Castiel let out a soft chuckle. “I’m saying it’s rather disappointing you don’t have a nice ring on his hand to take up space from my own fingers. I think you deserve a ring, Dean Winchester.”

Dean let out a soft, cocky smile on his face. “Castiel, are you saying you want to marry me?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Castiel replied. “How would we go about arranging that? Is that something the FBI would allow?”

“I can inquire about that tomorrow,” Dean said, moving their hands closer to him so he could kiss Castiel’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry that wasn’t a more romantic proposal that you deserve,” Castiel apologized.

Dean shook his head and let go of Castiel’s hand to cup both sides of Castiel’s face and run his thumbs over his cheeks. “It was exactly what I needed. _You_ are all I need.”

He leaned in and brought their mouths together once more.

Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester, engaged, Dean thought. It had a nice ring to it.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dorogoy- dearest, precious
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! This was an exciting event and I am happy I got to take part in it! Thank you again, SissyRay, for the concept, your support, and your art!


End file.
